Influence of Souls
by Nia River
Summary: COMPLETE. He stared at his journal, a creation into which he had poured his memories and dreams, his heart and… soul. Now, to send it to where it needed to be. Time-travel, redo fic. Darker, more ruthless Harry. Sirius/Harry SLASH.
1. Part, the First

**Posted**: 18 March, 2011

**Disclaimer**: I do not own anything in this story that is recognisable from the Harry Potter books, movies, etc. Everything else however (eg. story plot, original characters, etc.) stems from my own imagination and belongs to me. No copyright infringement is intended and I am not profiting financially from this story in any way.

**Author's Notes**: Basically, I wanted to try writing something properly smutty. Somehow plot got involved, including time-travel (you may notice, from the number of my stories that contain it, that I like time-travel in HP fic), and so I decided to share and post. Reviews are love. Constructive crit always welcome, especially re the racy bits, because I'm always a bit unsure about them.

**Warnings**: An adult content warning because it'll get racier as the story continues (I think there'll be four chapters all up); a slash warning too of course since it's Sirius/Harry; bashing warning for Dumbledore, Hermione, Ron and Ginny; and darkish Harry warning because he'll be a bit more ruthless than canon.

* * *

**Part, the First**

**A future somewhen…**

He stared at his journal, a creation into which he had poured his memories and dreams, his heart and… soul. It was a handsome book with a red, leather cover and gold lock on one side. 'Journal', it read on the front cover in gold letters, and on the back cover, in smaller gilded font near the bottom, 'Flourish and Blotts, 1993'.

Gryffindor colours, and dated appropriately. All to prevent suspicions. Not that there likely would be any, with the enchantments it held. Spells to captivate and draw in the target; spells avert suspicion of, and encourage trust in, the contents; spells to deter notice from any but the target; such strong security spells that unless keyed in, it would take a curse breaker to open; and of course, most vitally, the spells that made it what it was … that made it a Horcrux.

He remembered once more the look of shock on Hermione's face, and the way she had screamed as the green light sped toward her. He smiled a grim, cold smile of remembered satisfaction. He really should have guessed sooner. A first year Muggle-born witch with her knowledge and ability? Unlikely. She'd been helping control him since the moment they met. He felt no remorse for his revenge. Besides, her death had served a purpose. He'd needed a murder to fracture his soul.

He looked down at the book again, caressing the cover. He shivered at the feeling of familiarity and belonging he got from his Horcrux. How Voldemort was able to part with so many of his own, and to hide them in places away from himself, he didn't know. Hopefully the target would have a similar reaction. It would help encourage him to be near the book, and to write in it, and so help speed the process along. Speed it along so he could see _him_ once again.

Now, to send this to where it needed to be.

..ooOOoo..

**Before fifth year…**

Harry found the book under his bed at the Dursleys, covered in dust. He'd been confused of course, wondering how it had gotten there. Then he'd seen the Flourish and Blotts logo and date gilded on the back. He didn't remember ever buying a journal from there. But in 1993, before third year, he'd spent half the summer at the Leaky Cauldron. He'd had plenty of opportunity to buy it then during his wanderings of Diagon Alley, so perhaps had just forgotten in the couple of years since. It seemed the sort of thing he'd pick, being appealingly Gryffindor with red and gold. And somehow, it just felt _right_ to hold it.

Then Harry wrote in it.

And it wrote back.

It was a week before he dug the journal back out from the wastepaper basket he'd chucked it in. For some reason, despite his fear, he'd not owled the headmaster, or tried to dispose of it more permanently. Something instinct told him he was overreacting, that it wasn't a dangerous book, not like Riddle's diary. Logic tried to crowd out instinct, insisting that he wasn't taking the situation seriously enough. And so he'd compromised with himself: he would keep his silence, but he would also keep his distance.

He likely would have kept to this unspoken vow too, but for three main points. One, the book's enchantments which drew him inexorably to it. Two, the nightmares he'd been having of Cedric's recent death, and the desperate _need_ to confide in someone. This was complicated by three, the lack of owls from his friends, the ones he was most likely to confide in. The latter point also made him fear they blamed him as he blamed himself, and that was why they hadn't written, which in turn compounded the need to confide.

And so Harry found himself, perhaps unwisely, opening the journal once more. The gold lock clicked open at his touch and intent. He inked his quill and raised it over the page, then hesitated. A drop of ink fell, blotting the parchment, before fading. He probably shouldn't be doing this, he knew, but he needed so desperately to talk to someone. Since he wasn't about to start having heart-to-hearts with Dudley, this was his only option.

Harry determinedly set quill to parchment.

This time, he didn't stop when it wrote back.

..ooOOoo..

He opened his eyes and stared at the room around him. Familiar, though it had been long since he'd been here. The second bedroom at number four Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. He shut the journal, now nothing more than a highly enchanted but ultimately soul-less book. It would make a nice souvenir. A victorious smile spread over his lips. The boy's soul was finally consumed, to replenish his own, and the body was his.

It had all worked as planned. The boy found the book and wrote in it despite his better sense. He'd timed the journal to arrive while the boy was still reeling from witnessing Cedric Diggory's murder and Voldemort's resurrection, then was forced back to hateful Muggle relatives and cut off from his friends. The situation left the boy emotionally vulnerable, and thus more susceptible to he, the once Horcrux's influence.

Yes, the boy had been very susceptible indeed. Enough of a connection had formed within mere days for him to temporarily take control, but he'd resisted the temptation and remained patient. There'd been no need to risk spooking the boy before he'd won the battle. Besides, less energy expended on temporary possessions mean more energy served for the final takeover. And he'd made that takeover, won that battle, _much_ more quickly than expected, even with the vulnerable emotional state of the boy.

He wondered if it had something to do with the compatibility of their souls. After all, they were both Harry James Potter.

..ooOOoo..

He felt them before he saw them. A coldness that spread all through him, leaching light and hope. Then the tattered, black-robed forms were floating towards them. He paused, pretending shock and fear, just long enough for Dudley to become incapacitated by fears of his own. Then he yelled at Dudley to run. He knew of course that his hated cousin, cowering on the ground, was too far gone in terror to do any such thing, but he had to keep up appearances. Then Harry turned and ran, as if expecting his cousin to follow. And that's the story he would stick to, if anyone asked. He'd thought Dudley would follow. _Honest_.

..ooOOoo..

The Auror's came to question him. He did indeed stick to his story, even offered up his memories which to all appearances supported it. Why didn't he use the Patronus, which some had heard rumour he could cast? Why, because underage magic outside Hogwarts is illegal and he didn't want to get in trouble with the Ministry. He regretted it now of course, and wished desperately he'd cast it anyway, and saved his cousin. But, he'd thought Dudley was following him. And now he felt so guilty. _Honest_ he did.

They patted his hand, assured him he wasn't to blame, and left.

Harry packed up his things and left before the Dursleys could return from the hospital, where they grieved over their ickle Dudders's mindlessly drooling, corpulent form. He knew they'd be furious and accusatory when they got back. Vernon might even try to murder him finally. Drown him like he oft muttered he should have done all those years ago, when he found 'the freak' on the doorstep. Best Harry left while he could.

He reflected, as he hailed the Knight Bus, that he'd never have to return to the Dursleys again. They'd never willingly house him after the loss of their son in such a magical manner. Not even Dumbledore at his twinkly-eyed, manipulative best could smooth over _that_. And that's why Harry'd left Dudley to the Dementors' mercy. Well… He smirked. Well, that and revenge for the years he spent as victim to all three Dursleys, and the way they'd tried to give him up to Voldemort when he'd answered their call for 'help' some years ago, or rather years from now, in another timeline.

He'd rather acquired a taste for vengeance, it seemed.

..ooOOoo..

They found him within a few days, but that was expected. Calculated even. If he was trying to hide, he'd not have taken the Knight Bus without an alias, or stayed in the Leaky Cauldron under his real name. Wizards and witches gossiped like pre-teen girls, and he was half-convinced there was no such thing as a secret in the wizarding world. Word of his location was bound to get around sooner or later. More likely sooner. He'd wanted it that way.

The Order members all loitered in his room, hovering irritatingly over his shoulder as he packed up his things for the trip to headquarters. It was really too small a room for so many people, but they seemed determined not to let him out of their sight. Whether because they wanted to protect him, or keep an eye on him to make sure he didn't run off again, he didn't know. Didn't particularly care either. He was too busy trying to hide excitement.

Soon, he'd see _him_ again.

..ooOOoo..

Grimmauld Place was as he remembered it, before Kreacher had made a turnaround and set to cleaning it up. All dark and gloomy and dilapidated. Tonks inevitably tripped on that hideous troll-foot umbrella stand, waking up Mrs Black's portrait. The banshee started screaming and people, thus alerted that they'd arrived, filled the entry hall to greet him.

His 'friends' looked happy to see him, till he dodged Hermione's hug and didn't return Ron's grin.

"You didn't write," he said simply, coldly. They made the expected excuse: Dumbledore forbade it. "I'd just witnessed Cedric's murder and Voldemort's resurrection, and I desperately needed to hear from my friends and to know they cared. And you abandoned me." Dumbledore's name invoked again. "That's not a good enough reason," he said firmly and added, with a tone of finality, "Friends don't treat friends like you treated me. I suppose that means we're not really friends."

He was peripherally aware of the shocked expressions of not only Hermione and Ron, but also the watching Order members too. But only peripherally, because most of his attention had been captured by someone else. When he'd turned away from his formers friends Harry had spotted _him_, standing by the curtains that _he_ must have wrenched closed before remaining silent to watch the confrontation.

"Sirius," Harry whispered.

And then a smile lit his face, and he ran toward the man who seemed surprised but pleased at Harry's reaction. Sirius caught Harry in his arms when he leapt, spinning them around to cushion the impact. Harry's arms wrapped tightly around the other wizard's neck and his legs around his waist. His mind told him to let go, that this wasn't the plan, that he would arouse suspicion. Harry told his mind to go to hell, that the plan had changed, that no way could he go through with holding himself back from Sirius.

There were some mutters from those who had remained to watch the reunion. Most had left for the kitchen, but Hermione and the Weasleys, and possibly Remus at least remained. Sirius seemed to be getting the picture that Harry didn't plan on abandoning his limpet impression anytime soon, and settled his chin on Harry's head, holding him close.

"Wanna go upstairs?" he asked. "I'll show you where you'll be staying."

Harry nodded. "I'm not sharing with Ron, am I?" he murmured

"You were, but I'm guessing that's not such a good idea anymore?"

"No."

..ooOOoo..

Later that night, Harry slipped out of the room he'd been given, which had once been Regulus's.

Dinner had been awkward, with Ron and Hermione trying to apologise and him not forgiving them. The pair was clearly not sure how to respond to his chosen attitude. He imaged they might have been more hopeful if he yelled at them, that at least showing he cared enough to be angry. Instead, he treated then with a cool distance as if they were unimportant. It clearly hurt their- well, not their feelings likely, so much as their pride.

That wasn't important at the moment though. Right now, he needed to talk to his godfather, and so he was sneaking into his room in the dark of night.

"Sirius?"

"Harry?" A lamp was lighted and Sirius sat up in his bed.

"Did I wake you?"

"No. I hadn't fallen asleep yet. What're you doing up Pronglset?"

Hmm, Harry thought, as good an opening as any to get things moving.

"Actually, not so much a 'Prongs', '-let' or otherwise," he said with a somewhat mischievous smile.

"Huh?" Sirius asked, clearly confused.

"Can you silence the room?"

The request earned him another strange look, but Sirius obliged him. Then Harry grinned, anticipating the reaction, and… changed. He was glad for the silencing spell as Sirius gave a shout of shock. Harry hopped and launched himself into the air, circled the room once, then landed himself on Sirius's blanket covered knee.

Laughing in his animal form sounded strange indeed, but he couldn't help his amusement at the boggled look on his godfather's face as he ran a hand down Harry's feathers confirming that, yes, this was real and not an illusion. Harry quickly transformed back so that he could laugh freely from a human mouth. Sirius stared down at him in his lap, expression of shock transforming to amazement and pride.

"Harry!" He swept his godson into a hug. "When did you- how did you- that's amazing! Why didn't you tell me you were learning the transformation? I would have given you tips."

"Because I wasn't," Harry said. "Not yet."

"What, it just spontaneously happened?" Sirius asked jokingly. "One day you were walking along and then _poof_, you'd sprouted feathers?"

"No. Here, sit back," Harry ordered, nudging them both into a more comfortable sitting position, but with himself still in the older wizard's lap. "Sirius, have I got a tale to tell you."

..ooOOoo..

"Horcruxes?" Sirius asked grimly once Harry finished.

"Yes."

"And Regulus and Kreacher meant to destroy one?"

"They tried."

"And Dumbledore meant for you to die?"

"His plan all along.

"Voldemort took over the Ministry for awhile?"

"Yes."

"And you won, but all those people died?"

"Yes. Too many."

"You married little Ginny Weasley."

"Unfortunately."

"And everything seemed like happily ever after until… you found out about plots, and love potions, and betrayal, and friends who were never really friends, but just wanted to use you."

"Yes."

"And Hermione Granger is… Albus Dumbledore's great-great-granddaughter?" Sirius asked, this time almost incredulously.

"Yeah, shocked me too. From an illegitimate Squib child he had with a Muggle. Though like I said, her abilities make a lot more sense knowing he trained her from a young age. They were very secretive about it. Her parents didn't even know. Not about the training, or even that she was a witch till her Hogwarts letter came."

"I suppose. And she was Dumbledore's agent, helping him direct you about like a puppet. And they used the Weasleys too, though only Ron was being directly paid off."

"Yep."

A long silence followed, and Harry began to grow tense. There was one more thing Sirius hadn't mentioned. The most important thing, to Harry's mind.

"Soul mates?" Sirius asked, somewhat shakily. "Really?"

He nodded. "It's why Dumbledore never pushed for a trial, and kept you locked up here, away from me. He knew," Harry explained, trying to sound calm and composed. "And that kind of bond… it'd break too much of his control over me because I'd instinctively look to you, trust you, want to be with you. He was probably pleased when Bellatrix killed you," he reflected pessimistically. "Complication removed."

"You know, from the moment I first saw you, the day you were born, there was an immediately connection between us," Sirius recalled in a quiet voice. "They all used to joke that you liked me best, even better than your parents. And I've never cared for someone as much as I instantly cared for you. They practically had to pry you from my arms when I held you, because I never wanted to let you go." The older wizard took a deep breath. "And about a month and a half ago, I started missing you and thinking of you more. Sometimes in ways… well, not fatherly. That'd be about when you emerged in this timeline, old enough in soul for the bond to be really felt. It fits. With what I know of soul mates, that is."

"Yeah."

Another long silence. Harry hoped and prayed with everything that he had that Sirius would accept this, accept him, and not try to deny what they were. He held very still where he was still seated on his soul mate's lap as he waited for a response.

"Angel, I think," Sirius said. Harry's looked up in confusion, and his green eyes were captured by tender grey. "You're right, you're not a Prongslet. And we can't pick anything as obvious as Prongs, Padfoot, Moony or Wormtail were, can we? Granger or Dumbledore'd quickly figure it out. So it'll be Angel, for the wings."

"Angel?" he asked and arms tightened around him.

"_My_ Angel."

Fingertips brushed his cheek then lips pressed softly to his forehead, and Harry finally relaxed, melting into the embrace. They fell asleep wrapped around one another.

..ooOOoo..

"Angel?"

"Hey Siri," Harry said, looking up from where he lay on the man's bed. "I'm not going to apologise for loosing my temper at her. She has no right to treat you that way. You're not a criminal, in case she forgot. Plus, she's a guest in _your_ house."

"Hey, no arguments here." Sirius entered the room, closing the door behind him. He sat down on the edge of the bed and started running a hand through Harry's hair. He leaned into the caress. "Molly's been a pain in the arse ever since the Order set up shop here. Don't know why she has it out for me in particular though. I know she thinks I'm a bad influence, but she's not even half so bitchy toward anyone else, not even Dung the self-confessed 'acquisitions expert'."

"I half think it's some sort of jealously thing."

"Jealousy?"

"Yeah. You know Mrs Weasley's overbearing about her kids and she sort of claimed me as one of hers awhile back. Maybe she doesn't like that I'm closer to you than her. She's been even worse this time around than I remember, but we're closer this time and spend more time together, so maybe that's made her jealousy worse. It's a good thing she doesn't know I've been sneaking in here with you at nights or she'd totally flip."

"She is possessive about her family," Sirius admitted. "But she needs to realise you're not hers."

"No, I'm not." Harry looked up at Sirius and pointedly said, "I'm yours."

The grey of Sirius's eyes darkened to a molten silver, even as his features softened. And then Sirius was leaning down, dark strands falling around his face like curtains to shield them both as he pressed his lips to Harry's. The kiss was long and languid, but fairly chaste. Still, it had Harry's stomach fluttering, heart thudding, and body tingling. Sirius withdrew and gave him two shorter, softer pecks before pulling back.

"Yeah," Sirius said, voice warm, "mine."

Harry delighted in the true happiness reflected on Sirius's face. It was an expression he'd rarely seen in the past timeline, but had been treated to more and more frequently this time around when they were alone. He himself was also happier than he'd been in too long. He'd felt incomplete ever since he came of age and was able to feel the hole where his soul mate should have been. He'd tried his best to be happy anyway, but made the mistake of attempting that with Ginny Weasley. Now though it wasn't an issue. He had Sirius back, and he refused to lose him this time.

..ooOOoo..

"Wotcher folks," Tonks said, stumbling into the kitchen and taking a seat, helping herself to some of Mrs Weasley's cooking. "Is it just me or is this place looking just a bit less gloomy?"

"I had words with Kreacher and we came to an understanding," Sirius said casually.

Harry hid a satisfied smile, thinking back to the melted locket that had been thrown out with yesterday's garbage. In its place Kreacher now owned a Slytherin prefect badge which had once belonged to Regulus, and wore it proudly pinned to his now clean tea towel toga. The gift combined with watching the locket burned by Harry's Fiendfyre, completing Regulus's last request, had won Kreacher over. Sirius and Harry now had the house-elf's undying loyalty.

..ooOOoo..

"I'm glad you finally agreed to an examination Sirius," Emmeline Vance, healer and Order member, said kindly. "I've been wanting to help along your recovery from Azkaban for awhile."

"Yeah, well, _someone_," he looked pointedly at an unapologetic Harry, "was insistent. But I made him promise something in return."

"Right," Harry said, feeling awkward at the reminder. He looked to Vance. "Since this is an official consultation, you being paid and all, it's protected by your healer-patient confidentiality vow, right?"

"Yes… why do you ask?"

"I want you to check me over as well."

"Why is that? Have you been feeling ill?"

"No, I-" He paused, biting his lip. Sirius's hand came to rest on his back and it gave him the strength to continue. "I'm pretty sure I have some lingering childhood damage. Scars, broken bones not properly set, possibly malnutrition."

Vance gaped, processing that and coming to the obvious conclusion. The Boy-Who-Lived had been abused. She quickly snapped her mouth shut though, and adopted an air of professionalism as she completed both their examinations, something which made both wizards more comfortable.

"Eighteen months at most, with the right potions and proper exercise, and I think I can have you both in top health," was Vance's diagnosis.

..ooOOoo..

"I don't want you to go," Sirius complained bitterly.

"Me neither," Harry said, "but we agreed this was the best way to go about things. I need access to Hogwarts to get the diadem and avoid Dumbledore's notice for now. Well, more notice than I already have. He's been 'in the neighbourhood' and 'just dropping by' a lot more than last time around, and pulling me aside for chats to 'express his concern'. Urging me to forgive Ron and Hermione, and spend more time with them rather than isolating myself with you."

They were in Harry's room for once rather than Sirius's, collecting his school trunk and saying their goodbyes. The moment they entered the room, Sirius had backed him up against the wall and kissed him thoroughly. Harry had pressed close, wrapping his arms around him, enjoying the sensation.

"Damn it, don't try and win me over with your logic," Sirius muttered, partly joking but partly serious. Then he sighed. "It'll be weird sleeping without you. I haven't slept as soundly for ages, as I have these last few weeks."

"Well, I don't know if I can take all the credit. Those potions of Healer Vance's help too. My nightmares have certainly faded even more since I started taking them."

Hearing Mrs Weasley shout from down below, they reluctantly parted, and Harry set to packing his trunk. As he went to shut it, a hand appeared over his shoulder with a package. He looked from it to Sirius.

"The mirror?" he asked hopefully. Sirius nodded and Harry grinned. "Brilliant. At least we'll still be able to talk." He added the package to his trunk and finally closed it, then stood. "So…"

"Yeah. So. I'll keep thinking on the cup and let you know if I think of anything. That's really the biggest problem and I don't fancy us repeating your break-in at Gringotts, even if the escaping on a dragon part was very cool," Sirius rambled before forcing himself to stop and look Harry in the eyes. "I'll miss you Angel. Keep in touch and I'd better see you at Christmas, alright?"

"I promise Siri." Another shout from downstairs. "Come on, better go before they come looking for us." Sirius grabbed his arm before he could leave the room. "What-?" A wand was tapped to his lips, and the swollen feeling to them, which he'd barely noticed, faded. "_Oh_."

"Probably best you don't go down there looking recently snogged," Sirius said solemnly, but his eyes held mischief.

"Yeah." Harry blushed a little, feeling like the inexperienced teenager he appeared to be.

* * *

**Reviews make me happy (hint, hint).**


	2. Part, the Second

**Posted**: 26 March, 2011

**Disclaimer**: I do not own anything in this story that is recognisable from the Harry Potter books, movies, etc. Everything else however (eg. story plot, original characters, etc.) stems from my own imagination and belongs to me. No copyright infringement is intended and I am not profiting financially from this story in any way.

* * *

**Part, the Second**

**Fifth year…**

The first week was hell. Torture. Ron and Hermione had stopped nagging him in hopes the silent treatment would have more effect, but that wasn't the problem. Actually, that was a blessing, but he was too miserable to appreciate it. The fact was he missed his soul mate horribly. He could barely sleep without the man beside him now, and the continuing days without rest were wearing on him. Then he remembered the few naps he'd taken alone in Sirius's bed, somehow managing to sleep even when the man was elsewhere, and an idea occurred to him.

"Send me your shirt," Harry ordered desperately into the mirror. Then, taking in the dark circles under Sirius's eyes, matching his own, added, "I'll owl you mine too."

"My shirt?" was the bewildered question.

"The one you're wearing now. Don't wash it."

Understanding lit Sirius's features and he nodded.

The night after the package arrived, Harry got his first full night's rest in over a week. He slept with Sirius's shirt draped over his pillow, surrounding him in the older wizard's soothing scent. Sirius finally slept too, and when a week later the scents started to fade, they each sent the other a new one, fresh from their backs. It wasn't the same as being together, but it made things bearable.

..ooOOoo..

"_Confundus_," Harry said quietly, and Ron dived in completely the wrong direction.

No, his former friend would _not_ be making the Quidditch team this time. The spot instead went to a decently capable seventh year girl, whose long-limbed figure gave her good reach of the hoops.

..ooOOoo..

He watched the diadem crackle and melt. Fiery dragons and phoenixes and hippogriffs cried in victory as a dark shadow was expelled from the diadem, giving a wailing shriek before dissipating.

"Another one down," Harry said pleased, and reigned in his Fiendfyre.

..ooOOoo..

Hermione and Ron seemed finally to be getting the hint that Harry really didn't plan to forgive them. Unfortunately that made them desperate and they'd started following him constantly, nagging and apologising and berating and anything else they could think of that might possibly sway him. It was irritating beyond belief.

Umbridge was just as unpleasant as he remembered, but he'd managed to avoid detentions with her by biting his tongue. Ron seemed to think this some display of cowardice and had yelled at him for it initially, until Hermione dragged him away. Harry heard her muttering something along the lines of "pushing him further away" and "never win him back like that".

Harry spent most of his time alone, when not in class or at Quidditch practices, and provided he could shake off Ron and Hermione. He either studied or, if he could find somewhere private, mirror called Sirius. The studying was doing wonders for his grades. He'd already shown a sudden improvement of course, having twelve years more magical experience than he should, but the studying was really solidifying his top grades. All the teachers, excepting Snape, Umbridge and Trelawney of course, were impressed with what seemed his newfound academic zeal.

Hermione was plainly jealous of his soaring grades, but hadn't been shy to try and use their existence to her advantage. When he'd dodged and refused her attempts to get him to lead what would become the DA, she had tried claiming he had a responsibility to help others succeed as he was doing. Still he refused. She seemed sure he'd change his mind however, because he'd overheard her recruiting all the same.

He didn't give her any opportunity to try dragging him to the Hogshead come Hogsmeade weekend. Instead he slipped away into the foothills, unnoticed. He found Sirius there waiting, as promised, and the two spent the day together, talking and holding one another, and kissing rather a lot. They both felt the pain of separation ease, and parted reluctantly, but in much better spirits than they had been for over a month.

..ooOOoo..

December eighteenth. Harry sat behind the closed curtains of his dormitory bed, Occlumency shields adjusted enough to allow the 'dreams' to be glimpsed but not experienced in full technicolour detail. He contemplated what to do. How to react. Doing nothing would be wonderful vengeance against Ron and Ginny for their betrayal, and maybe even Mrs Weasley for the way she treated Sirius, but…

The 'dream' came. Nagini, attacking Mr Weasley.

Harry sighed. Arthur Weasley was a good man, he reminded himself, and had never been anything but kind to him.

He got up to go alert someone.

..ooOOoo..

He knew he'd made the right decision, saving Mr Weasley, even if Ron and Ginny would have been devastated by the man's loss. The fact that they immediately left to Grimmauld Place, where he was reunited with Sirius, was like cosmic proof. A reward for his good deed.

And then, as though a cosmic rebuke for his momentary hesitation, he was forced away from Sirius the next day, dragged along to St Mungo's to visit Mr Weasley. He was actually glad to see the kindly man was alive and well, if slow in his recovery due to the venom of Nagini's bite.

He wandered off soon though, wanting to get away from the presences of Ron, Hermione and Ginny. He stumbled across Neville visiting his parents, and listened to Augusta Longbottom berate her grandson for not mentioning his parents to Harry. She then bragged about Frank and Alice's bravery, and baldly explained their tortured-to-insanity state.

Harry had spent a little time with Neville since September, as he had with Luna. Far more time than he willingly spent with Hermione and Ron, but still, not terribly much. He knew logically that it would probably be safe and even pleasant to befriend either or both of the two, but he'd been betrayed so badly in his relative past that he was trust-shy. Neither had shown any evidence of betrayal in the future of course, and honestly he doubted they were even capable of it, but all the same…

Harry's mind seemed to have developed two categories for other people: 'Sirius' and 'Not Sirius'. The first could be trusted, but not the second. A narrow view, but one he couldn't seem to shake. In that moment though, looking at Neville's red face and having seen the way his grandmother treated him, Harry thought it wouldn't hurt to make some sort of gesture. To express some sympathy and understanding.

He grabbed Neville's arm as he left.

"It's alright not to talk about them," Harry said quietly. "My parents did something very brave for me too, but I don't mention it much because… it's not a happy memory. Doesn't mean we're not proud of them Neville, not matter what your grandmother says."

Neville face was a study in gratitude, and he was actually smiling a little as he hurried to catch up to his gran, discretely tucking a bubblegum wrapper into his pocket as he went.

..ooOOoo..

"I've been thinking," Sirius said, setting journal and quill aside.

They were sitting at opposite ends of Sirius's bed. Harry was working on his homework, wanting to get it done and out of the way, and Sirius had been scribbling in the former-Horcrux journal. Harry had removed the enthrallment, trustworthiness and anti-suspicion spells, and keyed his soul mate into it as well. With the rest of the security left active, it now served perfectly as their planning journal.

"Scheming more like," Harry said with a smirk, recognising the calculating look in those grey eyes, and had his smirk returned. "So, what are you planning?"

"The ring. Instead of destroying it ourselves, we leave it to Dumbledore."

"Okay. I'm not objecting but I assume there's a reason behind that?"

"The old man's a problem," Sirius said, anger flickering over his features. He'd come to hate the headmaster, Harry knew, after hearing how Dumbledore had raised his godson and soul mate to be a martyr. Not to mention imprisoning Sirius to keep him away, leaving Harry in an abusive home, paying off false 'friends' to control him, and more still. "Possibly an enemy even. But he's powerful magically and politically both, and held in high esteem by most good witches and wizards. If we actually managed to… _take care of him_, we'd probably be end up with a whole lot of trouble. Branded traitors and hunted down, maybe thrown in Azkaban."

"Probably. People do seem to worship him."

"Which is why _we_ don't bother. Instead, I figure we let things run their course till the end of your sixth year when…"

"Snape takes him out for us, at Dumbledore's direction because he's dying anyway from the curse on the ring," Harry said in realisation. "That's brilliant. It'll get Dumbledore out of our way and then, when everyone's hopes are fading, I fulfil the damn prophecy and 'save them all'. My credit'll be so high no one would dare object when I claim that you were innocent. You'll finally be tried, a bit of Veritaserum and some Pensieve memories and everyone will have proof you're innocent, and they'll be falling over themselves backwards to make up for it. You'll be free, finally."

Sirius's eyes were bright with hope.

"Free," he whispered, as if afraid to say the word too loudly. "That'd be-" He paused and swallowed. "Merlin, to be able to walk down Diagon Alley again, to visit Hogsmeade, to-" He paused, and looked at Harry with an expression of yearning. "To be able to court you openly."

"Court me?" Harry said surprised.

"I know you were Muggle-raised so that probably sounds old fashioned. Lily thought so when she finally let James start courting her. Honestly, there's not much my family taught me that I care to remember, but some traditions…" Sirius looked away, almost bashful. "I'd like to court you, by wizarding custom. It's- it's not just about tradition, but also respect and serious intentions and- I mean if you wouldn't mind-"

"Okay," Harry cut in, feeling his heart swell. "When you're free, you can… court me."

..ooOOoo..

"I go back to Hogwarts tomorrow," Harry said morosely. "I wish we could complete the bonding. It'd be almost like we were never apart then." Harry suddenly realised Sirius had tensed. "Siri?" A terrible thought occurred to Harry. "Do you- I mean I just assumed. I know some soul mates settle for friendships. Do you not want me _that_ way?"

The question came out sounding far more vulnerable than he'd like, and immediately he was being held close. He remained stiff in the embrace, afraid of the answer he'd receive.

"No, no, that's not it at all Angel. Of course I do. I want us to bond fully, as soul mates and lovers… eventually."

"Eventually?"

"I-" Sirius gave an aggravated sigh, running a hand through his hair. "Aside from me wanting to court you properly, meaning sex at this stage is out of the question… Look Harry, kisses and holding each other is one thing, and it's brilliant, and I love it, but… you're still a minor."

Harry blinked. "Well, technically I guess. My mind and soul are twenty-seven though."

"But your body is only fifteen," Sirius said, sober and sincere for once, "and I don't feel comfortable with the idea of having sex with someone who looks fifteen."

"But-"

"Would you?" Sirius asked, trying a different tact. "If you looked your twenty-seven years, and I had the body of a fifteen year old boy, would you be comfortable with it?"

"Oh," Harry said with understanding, and the last of his tension drained away. "No, I get it now. That'd be… weird."

"Exactly."

"So, we stick to just snogging for now?"

"Yeah, and take it slow. More as you get older."

"Okay. I can do that. Though," Harry added wryly, "my and my right hand are probably going to get a lot better acquainted, till I age enough that sex with me doesn't freak you out."

Sirius barked a laugh. "Me too," he admitted.

..ooOOoo..

"You're going to be teaching me Occlumency?"

"Yes Potter, that's what I said," Snape snarled. "Or are you too stupid to understand English now?"

"No," Harry said, narrowing his eyes, "I understand perfectly."

Two days later he turned up to his Occlumency lesson. He knew now, with knowledge and experience, that Snape 'lessons' had been more equivalent to violent mind rapes, which could teach him nothing. In fact, if anything they _eroded_ Harry's mental defences. He wondered who was truly behind Snape's actions in this instance. Did he decide himself or had one of his masters, Voldemort or Dumbledore, ordered him to do it? It didn't really matter, Harry supposed, because he wasn't going to submit to it this time.

"Clear your mind. _Legilimens_!" Snape cast with very little warning.

And then the man was screaming and writhing on the floor, experiencing a compilation of sensations from Harry's memories, each one worse than the one before. Gnawing hunger from his childhood days locked in the cupboard without food. The prickling, stinging pain of Skele-Gro regrowing his arm. Basilisk venom running through his veins before Fakes healed it. The burning pain of Harry's curse scar near Voldemort. Cruciatus from the Dark Lord.

Harry turned and exited the room, leaving the now unconscious man lying on the floor, bleeding from eyes, ears and nose. He wouldn't be called for a second lesson. Even better, and most fortuitously, Snape's pride would keep him from admitting the truth of what happened to anyone. He would never willingly admit to being bested by a Potter.

..ooOOoo..

Cho Chang had been throwing him lingering looks, and loitering near him far too often for coincidence, as Valentine's Day approached. Harry avoided the witch and pretended not to notice. He had no intention of getting involved with that weeping mess again. Wouldn't even without knowing he had a soul mate.

Speaking of Sirius, the older wizard had arranged to meet Harry in the Shrieking Shack the day of the Valentine's Hogsmeade weekend. Said he had a special surprise for the day. Harry turned up and, after a long kiss, Sirius presented him with two vials. Harry stared down at the lumpy concoctions he held in shock.

"How did you get Polyjuice?"

"Dung," Sirius said, with a proud smirk.

Then the older wizard dropped a hair in each vial. One turned a murky purple and the other golden brown. Sirius took the purple one from him.

"And the hairs?"

"My mother would approve if she knew I went Muggle hunting," Sirius said wryly, "until I mentioned I _only_ harmed a hair on their head. Now, bottoms up."

Sirius's black hair became short and spiky, his eyes bled dark, and he grew much younger. Harry's hair turned honey coloured, his eyes warm brown, and he aged a few years.

The two of them spent the day cavorting through Hogsmeade hand in hand, laughing joyfully, stopping for kisses often, and generally acting like the normal teenage couple they were disguised as. Refreshingly, they barely got a second glance from anyone.

..ooOOoo..

Since St Mungo's, Harry had been spending more time than previously sitting with Neville in the common room, doing homework together or just talking. One day when giving the other boy pointers on a spell Harry found himself, almost by accident, offering to tutor him. Neville of course was quick to agree, and Harry found himself leading them both to the Room of Requirement. A few days later, he invited Luna to join them.

It wasn't nearly the size of the DA club, which he still had no intentions of starting, but it was fun nonetheless. The thought that he might actually be lowering his barriers enough to make friends again was terrifying and exciting. Plus, he'd forgotten how much he enjoyed teaching. That feeling of accomplishment when a student finally grasped what you were trying to show them was unlike anything else.

..ooOOoo..

Trelawney had been sacked and the centaur, Firenze, had taken over the Divination position. When Harry entered the room, the new professor stared at him for a very long time, with a very strange expression, before looking away. Centaurs, he recalled, had an uncanny knack for reading the stars and divining the future. He wondered if the centaur had some idea of what he'd done.

His question was answered when Firenze asked him to wait behind.

"Meddling with fate is rarely wise. But sometimes… sometimes fate is _fated_ to be meddled with." The centaur gave him a piercing look. "You are on the correct path, Chosen One."

Well, Harry thought as he left the room, that was both confusing and promising.

..ooOOoo..

Dumbledore had been fired. Not because he'd taken responsibility for the DA, Dumbledore's Army, this time. No, instead it was some carefully planted evidence Harry had arranged. It was satisfying to get the man sacked, but more importantly it was necessary. Being expelled from Hogwarts for a short time had, in the alternate timeline, allowed Dumbledore to focus fully on the Order and Voldemort and, crucially, do a great deal of research on Voldemort's Horcruxes.

The planted evidence was unfortunately not strong enough to blacken Dumbledore's name entirely, and would be cleared as false soon enough, but it had to be that way. It should at least keep him away from the school long enough to get started on that research. Research which would eventually lead him to the Gaunt ring. The ring which would then give him a deadly curse. The curse which would lead Dumbledore to letting Snape kill him.

..ooOOoo..

The twins' exit from Hogwarts was just as spectacular as he remembered. He vowed to share the memory with Sirius. His soul mate would be very impressed.

..ooOOoo..

"Teaching?" McGonagall repeated, blinking owlishly. She started shuffling through her pamphlets. "I admit, that's not what I'd expected of you Mr Potter. Auror perhaps, or professional Quidditch, but not- here we are." Harry accepted the offered leaflet. "Now, you'll need at least an Acceptable grade in each of the core courses, and an Outstanding in any subject you wish to teach. Do you know which subject that would-"

"Hem, hem," Umbridge coughed, interrupting.

"Yes?" McGonagall asked curtly. "Do you need a cough drop, Delores?"

"Oh, no thank you. I was just wondering whether you really think it wise for a person of Mr Potter's _stability_ to be influencing impressionable young minds?"

"Stability?" she asked sharply.

"Well yes. I mean-" Umbridge gave a simpering, derisive laugh. "This _is_ the boy who claimed you-know-who had arisen from the dead."

Harry narrowed his eyes at the foul woman as McGonagall took up defence of him. She needed to be dealt with. No way could she be left in power, when last time around she'd used it to capture Muggle-borns and have them thrown into Azkaban. Or worse, Kissed. Already she'd spent months torturing children with that Blood Quill of hers. But how to go about it?

..ooOOoo..

The exams were, surprisingly, not terribly difficult. Not a breeze perhaps, but not nearly as stressful as he remembered either. After the last exam on the last day of testing, he knew it was time. Sirius had been very against the idea at first, but they _needed_ to force the public to acknowledge Voldemort's return. And so Harry would be venturing to the Department of Mysteries again.

But first…

..ooOOoo..

Umbridge made a truly hideous, yet somehow fitting, toad. The snake Harry summoned said she tasted rotten and was sure to give it indigestion. Harry wasn't surprised.

..ooOOoo..

The wizarding world was abuzz. Voldemort really was back! Shock, horror! Conversation and rumour abounded too about how Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, had somehow held off almost a dozen Death Eaters _singlehandedly_ till help arrived, disabling five and killing one more in the process.

Harry didn't really care about any of that though. No, he was more intent on his soul mate. The moment they were alone, he turned on him and shoved the older wizard up against the door. It was his anger that gave him the strength to do it, because Sirius was no longer weak, made of skin and bones. Vance's healing had already shown great progress in them both, but especially Sirius.

"What were you doing there?" Harry hissed. "We agreed you would stay away!"

"No," Sirius said patiently. "_You_ said I'd stay away. I just stopped arguing when you wouldn't listen to reason, but I never agreed."

"_Reason_? Sirius, you died there last time. You almost die there again!"

"Yeah, can't believe I let Bella almost get the best of me," Sirius said with some self-disgust. "Again, apparently."

"Sirius, you almost _died_. I nearly _lost you_ again." This time Harry's voice was filled not with anger, but quaking with desperate, remembered fear. "If I hadn't cast that summoning spell as you fell toward the Veil…" He trailed off, shuddering.

"Oh, Angel." Sirius's expression immediately went compassionate and understanding. He tugged the younger wizard close and Harry buried his face in the other's neck. "It's alright. I'm here. I'm alive. I'm with you. And Bella's not going to hurt anyone ever again."

The last gave Harry some relief. It was Bellatrix Lestrange that he had killed, after yanking Sirius from his path toward the Veil. Never had a kill been so satisfying. That didn't make everything alright though.

"You shouldn't have come," he said firmly.

"Angel. Harry. If roles were reversed, and I was headed into a fight with a hoard of Death Eaters and possibly Voldemort himself, would you ever stay behind?" And Harry sighed, because Sirius was right. "Exactly. Soul mates, Angel. We're drawn to protect one another. It can't be helped. Forgive me?"

"Fine," Harry said reluctantly. "But you're not allowed to die on me again Sirius. Not ever. Clear?"

"Crystal."

..ooOOoo..

**Before sixth year…**

As Harry had suspected, not even Dumbledore could convince the Dursleys to take him back in. Reluctantly, the headmaster had to allow him to spend the summer at headquarters, with Sirius. With Privet Drive not an option, Grimmauld was really the only safe place.

..ooOOoo..

_Madam Bones,_

_I won't say who I am, or what my sources are. Despite my anonymity, I plead for you to nevertheless heed the warning this letter conveys. I have solid reason to believe that unless you take steps, you will soon be attacked and murdered by Voldemort, who does not wish you to be made the new Minister. But Britain needs strong, just leadership in this trying time. Please, protect yourself. Hide your location. Lead Britain as it needs to be leaded._

..ooOOoo..

Bones did heed Harry's warning. For the mysterious letter had come from Harry, though she would never know it. She was sworn in as the new Minister for Magic, beating out Scrimgeour by a moderate margin. She showed a great deal more moral integrity in the position than either Fudge, or in the alternate timeline Scrimgeour, had ever managed.

..ooOOoo..

Outside, in London, misery bred as Dementors did the same, spreading a miasma across the land. Inside Grimmauld Place however, which no longer fit its grim name so well with all the cleaning and sprucing Kreacher had done, Harry was feeling happy and content. And lustful.

He hummed into the kiss until Sirius's hands, wound in his hair, tugged his head back for a different angle. Sirius started nipping playfully at his neck and Harry ran his hands restlessly over the silky material of the shirt-covered chest before him, as he sat straddling his soul mate's lap. He loved how Sirius had been filling out with the potions and exercise, all broad shoulders and toned muscles.

Lips captured his once more and a tongue dove in, stroking against his own. Without thought, Harry squirmed closer… and gave a loud moan, echoed by Sirius. He stilled and pulled back to look at Sirius, hands clenched tightly in the other's shirt, doubtless wrinkling the silky material.

"Can I?" He asked breathlessly. "Can we? Please."

Sirius's eyes, already molten, became darker. In silent answer hands slipped from Harry's hair, ran down his back, and then came to rest on his hips. Gripping firmly, Sirius tugged Harry closer. The younger wizard gave a cry of pleasure as the other moaned. Sirius pushed him back a little then repeated the movement.

Getting the hint, Harry began rocking against Sirius, whose hands remained firm on his hips. Languid kisses turned hotter and more passionate as Harry's movements became faster and faster till he was rubbing against Sirius desperately. More, more, he needed more. And then Sirius trailed kisses to Harry's neck and suddenly, bit down. Harry stiffened, cried loudly, and came, Sirius following soon after.

It was some time before Harry was able to speak again. He blinked hazily, feeling Sirius kissing and licking softly at what was surely a visible mark on his neck. He didn't have the energy to move from where he lay slumped against Sirius's chest, but he could manage a few words, he thought.

"You bit me!" he accused.

"You liked it," Sirius said, wicked and unapologetic.

Harry huffed, but couldn't deny it was true.

"Probably left a mark," he muttered instead.

"It did," Sirius conformed, radiating smugness.

..ooOOoo..

Remus was staring the next morning. All through breakfast the werewolf's gaze slipped from Sirius, to Harry, then back to Sirius. Harry felt a feeling of foreboding and so, when Remus slipped out right after Sirius, who was heading up to feed Buckbeak, he followed after.

"-doing Sirius!" Remus was yelling. "He's only just sixteen. He's your _godson_."

"Might want to close the door Remus, unless you want the whole house to hear," Harry said, stepping into the room and locking the door behind them. "Silencing spell someone?"

Sirius cast the spell as Harry spared a bow for Buckbeak, who nodded back before returning to tearing apart his bucket of ferrets. Remus was staring at Harry in shock, and had positioned himself subtly, and perhaps subconsciously, between the two. As though he needed to protect Harry. Harry was torn between amusement and annoyance at the gesture.

"Moony," Sirius spoke, tone pleading for understanding, "it's not what you think."

"Don't Moony me Sirius. It's exactly what I think. You know how good my sense of smell is. You're both covered in the scent of each other and- and sex. You've been having sex with _Harry_."

"Actually," Harry piped up blithely, "I think the technical term is frottage."

Remus gaped, face going tomato red. Harry threw Sirius a grin which showed his pride at the reaction he'd provoked. His soul mate couldn't help but give a snort of amusement, and relaxed from the tense posture he'd held. Mission accomplished, Harry thought.

"So you haven't actually-" Remus cut himself off. "No. No, that doesn't matter. It's still wrong Sirius."

"Actually, there's nothing more right," Sirius countered.

"Do you know the 'Aperio Animus' spell? Don't ask," Harry added at Remus's confused and sceptical expression, "just cast it."

And Remus did. And then he gaped at them yet again, though this time with awe.

"You're-"

"Soul mates," Sirius said softly, looking only at Harry, and smiling.

"Do you know how rare a gift- and you're- I think I need to sit down."

They helped the pale Remus to the floor and sat cross-legged in a three-sided circle. Sirius and Harry held hands as they waited for Remus to recover. They'd discussed before whom else they could confide the whole truth in, and Sirius had insisted Remus was trustworthy. They'd just never found the right time to speak to the werewolf about it. Now it seemed like that time had come on its own, so when Remus looked somewhat recovered they explained everything.

Remus was by turns shocked, appalled, disbelieving, and then sadly accepting.

"So you reached your majority and-"

"Realised that I had a soul mate, and I'd lost him before I ever knew it," Harry said quietly, remembering. "The Cruciatus has nothing on the pain of feeling that hole where your soul mate should be."

Sirius tugged Harry into his lap, holding him close. Remus stared at Harry with compassion.

"I'm so sorry you had to go through that Harry."

"It's alright. I have him back now."

"So you understand Remus?" Sirius asked. "It's not wrong, me and Harry. It could never be wrong."

"Yes, I do. But-" Remus hesitated before forcing himself to continue. "Harry _is_ still underage. I know, I know Harry, only in body. But you have to remember, everyone else thinks you're underage in all ways. If you don't want the public to turn against Sirius, maybe even have the courts bring him up on charges, you'll have to be discrete for the time being."

"We've got plans in motions. Voldemort should be defeated sometime between the end of Harry's sixth year and the beginning of his seventh. And then we're going to get the Wizengamot to clear me."

"While the praises of my heroism are still running their highest," Harry confirmed. "They won't deny me then."

"And then…" Sirius glanced down at Harry before meeting Remus's eyes squarely. "Then after he turns seventeen, I'm going to court Harry."

"Court?" Remus said in surprise. "As in the wizarding way?" Sirius nodded. Remus smiled. "James would have approved of that, his son being properly courted. Lily too. She thought it was all a bit old fashioned and weird at first, but came to appreciate the tradition of it and the meaning behind it. And it'd all be proper, no room for questioning of motives and intentions. Plus, no one could possibly accuse you of anything too indecent. The courting spells won't take if you've already consummated."

"What?" Harry yelped, suddenly sitting up straight. "What do you mean it won't work if we've consummated? Are you saying we can't have sex till-"

"We're married," Sirius finished. Harry blinked owlishly. "You didn't know that?"

"No!"

"Why'd you agree to the courting if you didn't know what it involved?" Remus asked curiously.

"It was important to Sirius," Harry said, as though the answer should be obvious.

"I see," Remus said, smiling at Sirius's touched expression. "I'll get you a book Harry, explaining it all."

"Okay," Harry said. He gave a frustrated sigh. "So sex for us is more than a year away," he moaned. "God, I'm going to be so frustrated. Maybe I should buy one of those toys advertised in the red pages of Quidditch Monthly."

Remus blushed, embarrassed at the mention of the 'toys'. Sirius though had a much different reaction, if the growing hardness pressing into Harry was any indication. Very quickly, Harry was being hustled from the room.

"Bedroom," Sirius ordered, voice husky.

Harry was more than happy to oblige, though he did spare one moment to throw a comment over his shoulder.

"Oh and Remus? You should give in already and give Tonks a chance. You're making the poor witch miserable by keeping your distance. Besides, I can't wait to meet baby Lupin again."

He left the room to the sound of Remus's shocked spluttering.

..ooOOoo..

Harry decided to grant Dumbledore's request, and accompanied him to recruit Slughorn. Not for Dumbledore or the school's sake though. No, he did it because Felix Felicis would doubtless come in _very_ handy somewhere down the line.

..ooOOoo..

Harry stared at his OWL results. He knew he'd done well, but this was something else. Sirius snatched the letter from him and read it quickly.

"Brilliant Harry! Definitely got your parents' smarts. 'Outstanding' in Defence, Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, Herbology and Creatures. 'Exceeds Expectations' in Astronomy and History. 'Acceptable' in Divination. That's nine OWLs!"

Several other Order members at the table offered impressed congratulations. Harry accepted them politely but was most pleased by the proud smile on Sirius's face and the arm Sirius slung around his shoulder.

..ooOOoo..

The holidays passed quickly. Far too quickly, to Harry and Sirius's minds. It was soon time for him to return to Hogwarts once again.

"God I hate being stuck in this house while you're so far away from me," Sirius complained, holding Harry tightly.

"Well, we can't do anything about the distance, but at least the house is looking better these days."

"Kreacher is doing a better job," Sirius reluctantly admitted, "but it's still what it is. Grimmauld Place, reminding me of a childhood I'd rather forget."

"So change that," Harry suggested. "Renovate. Get rid of the snakes and the green, silver and black colour scheme, and that hideous troll foot umbrella stand. Find a way to tear down your mum's portrait. Put in some windows to let in some light. Then rename the place. Make it _not_ Grimmauld Place anymore. Make it a place you'd actually like living in."

"That… sound like a good idea," Sirius said, looking hopeful. Then he slumped. "But there's only so much I could do by myself."

"Well Kreacher will want to get involved too of course," Harry pointed out. "And if you need more help let me know. I'm sure Dobby would be over the moon to work for me, and he's totally trustworthy. Plus, there's Winky. She desperately wants a family, and the Blacks are related to the Crouches aren't they? So she'd probably be honoured to bond if it was offered."

"Yeah. Yeah, that might just work."

* * *

**Reviews make me happy (hint, hint).**


	3. Part, the Third

**Posted**: 3 April, 2011

**Disclaimer**: I do not own anything in this story that is recognisable from the Harry Potter books, movies, etc. Everything else however (eg. story plot, original characters, etc.) stems from my own imagination and belongs to me. No copyright infringement is intended and I am not profiting financially from this story in any way.

* * *

**Part, the Third**

**Sixth year…**

Harry stared at the glittering vial of Felix Felicis before tucking it carefully away in his trunk. With the help of the Half-Blood Prince's direction, he'd done it again. Snape would probably be ill if he knew he'd helped his most hated student win such a prize. The thought made Harry smirk.

..ooOOoo..

"Your wand."

"B-but Harry." Hermione shook her head, eyes wide, clutching the stick of wood close. "Please don't. I can't-"

"_Now_ Hermione."

Left no other options she grudgingly handed it over, and Harry cast the Prior Incantato. Confundus, like he remembered. The rest of the crowd in the Quidditch stands gasped and glared. Tears filled Hermione's eyes. Harry was gleeful, but only on the inside. He made sure his face showed only gravity and disappointment.

McGonagall had Hermione serving detention for a month straight, and put on probation. One toe out of line, and she would lose her Prefect badge. As for the Keeper tryouts, they were repeated and Ron lost out to Cormac McLaggen. By a fair margin too, because the drama had completely thrown Ron's confidence.

..ooOOoo..

The school days seemed to fly by, to Harry's relief.

He trained the Quidditch team and played in the games. He ignored Draco Malfoy's suspicious actions. He went to classes and continued to excel. He endured Snape's teaching of Defence. He actually attended Slug Club activities this time, because Slughorn could be a good contact down the line.

He continued tutoring and hanging out with Neville and Luna. At McGonagall's recommendation had started tutoring sessions for the younger students also, because she said it would be good experience given his goal of becoming a teacher, if that was truly what he wished to do.

On Hogsmeade weekend he and Sirius met under Polyjuice once more and stalked Katie Bell, rescuing her from the cursed necklace Draco planted this time around.

And in what should have been the most interesting of events, but was in reality rather boring since he'd seen it all before, he had lessons with Dumbledore, diving into Pensieve memories about Voldemort, and slowly 'learning' about Horcruxes.

..ooOOoo..

Harry smirked to himself as Hermione fled the post-Quidditch game victory party in tears. He then grimaced as he took in the reason why. Ron and Lavender, snogging each other's brains out. He looked away from the sight, glancing around the common room. He noticed some girls eying him up, most disturbingly Ginny Weasley. He grimaced again. This was the year the girls all went loopy over him and, worst of all, Ginny started dosing him with love potion.

He'd been careful to check all his food and drink each meal, and had already found his morning pumpkin juice tainted several times. He pretended to drink, not wanting to arouse suspicion that he knew about her plotting, and would often noticed her staring covertly at him, awaiting a reaction. But there would be none, not this time. No potion-induced chest monster of jealousy when he saw her making out with Dean, no sudden kiss in the middle of the Common Room, and certainly no eventual marriage of lies and deceit.

..ooOOoo..

"I think I've got an answer to our cup problem."

"Oh?" Harry leaned closer to the mirror in interest.

"Breaking into Gringotts, while sounding like a fantastic adventure, also sounds like a nightmare with all the protections they have."

"It was a miracle we managed it last time," Harry admitted. "But Hufflepuff's cup's in the Lestrange Vault, and we need to get it."

"Exactly. Here's the thing though. All those protections are only a problem if you're not the vault's owner. If a Lestrange went to the vault for us though…"

"So what, you want to kindly ask Rodolphus or Rabastan if they'd mind terribly fetching the cup for us?"

"No. Not ask."

"Oh." Harry's eyes widened with understanding. He stared at Sirius, assessing. "And you're okay with that? One of us using an Unforgivable? The Dark Arts?"

"Harry, I was raised in the house of Black."

"And hated everything they stood for."

"There's a Muggle saying I heard your mum say once or twice. Desperate times call for desperate measures. I'm more worried about whether _you're_ okay with it."

"I told you my whole story Sirius, remember? I'm nowhere near the light's golden boy anymore. Hell, I made a Horcrux. I'm okay with it."

"Good. Then the only kink in the plan is getting one of the Lestranges alone to cast the spell."

Both went silent, trying to figure out an answer. Then one occurred to Harry.

"Dobby."

"Dobby?"

"The Death Eaters are holed up in Malfoy Manor, if things are similar in this timeline. But so is Voldemort, so it's not a good idea for one of use to try sneaking in. Dobby was a Malfoy elf though, so he knows the Manor. He rescued me and some others from there in the other timeline, though he died doing it. We send him in to kidnap one of the Lestranges when they're alone and unsuspecting. Whoever is the least dangerous, for Dobby's sake."

"Rabastan," Sirius said. "He's the younger. Rodolphus was always the more dangerous and vicious. Rabastan was more of a tagalong." He nodded. "Yeah, this could work. I'll explain to Dobby when he finishes the repainting he's doing in the drawing room. I'll have him bring Rabastan to one of the locked cells in the hidden dungeon."

"How's your Imperius?" Harry asked seriously. "We can't risk it faltering when we send him out. I can sneak out to London to do it instead if that'd be better, or we could wait till Christmas hols when I come to visit."

"Angel, much as I hated that learning the Dark Arts was expected of me as a child, I've always had a certain knack for the Imperius. It'll be fine. I'll get it done."

..ooOOoo..

He was pinned to the wall still, breaths coming in gasps and pants sticky. Ever since he'd arrived Sirius's eyes had been hot and heavy on him. The moment they were able to slip away to the bedroom Harry had been lifted up against a wall and pinned there by Sirius's body. His soul mate had then proceeded to ravish his mouth and rub against his pinned form without mercy. Like the first time, Harry came when teeth bit into his neck, though this time much more harshly than before.

"Wh- what was that a- about?" he panted when he'd regained some sense.

"You're mine," Sirius rumbled into his ear.

"Yeah, but- but that doesn't answer the question. Not that I minded it. That was- wow- but why?"

"Was an article about you in the Prophet you know," Sirius said, seemingly apropos of nothing.

"There was?"

"You took some Luna Lovegood girl to the Slug Club party. As your date."

Suddenly Harry understood. This scene wasn't just prompted by how much Sirius had missed him while he was away. No, this was all about jealously and possessiveness. He wondered if he should be annoyed, but couldn't manage it. Fact was, possessive Sirius was extremely hot. In fact…

"As friends only. And she sort of went with me and Neville both. I think Luna and Neville are sweet on one another actually. Although…" His voice took on a teasing tone. "If you want to remind me who I belong to again anyway, I wouldn't object."

Sirius had relaxed with Harry's explanation, and at the suggestion of another go, huffed a laugh.

"You forget Angel, you're the only one here with the hormones of a teenager. Some of us need a bit more than two minutes to recover. Later though, I promise."

Sirius pulled back then, finally letting Harry slide back down onto his own two feet. He flicked his wand, cleaning them both up as Harry pouted.

"Oh fine. But I'm holding you to that promise. In the meantime, how'd it go with Lestrange?"

"Exactly according to plan," Sirius said with a pleased smile.

"Well?" Harry asked eagerly. "Show me."

Sirius dug a blanket covered bundle from the back of his wardrobe and set it on his bed. He peeled back the bulky layers to reveal a small golden cup, engraved with a badger and set with jewels. Harry let out a breath.

"I decided to leave the destruction to you," Sirius said. "I've never had to cast Fiendfyre and I didn't want to risk burning the house down around me if I stuffed it up."

Harry nodded. Extending his left hand, he flicked his wrist upward and the cup rose from the bed to hover in midair. Drawing his wand with his right hand, he pointed it and sent a jet of fire at the cup. The flames took the shapes of magical animals, devouring and destroying the cup gleefully. When Harry reined the spell back in, all that was left was a melted lump of gold and shattered jewels.

"Five down, two to go. Voldemort will soon be mortal again." He looked over at Sirius. "Now, what did you do with Rabastan?"

"He's still in the dungeon."

"Hmm." Harry's eyes narrowed, considering options. Finally his face turned grim. "Show me."

Five minutes later, Sirius looked at the fallen corpse of Rabastan Lestrange, dead without a mark on him, as most victims of the Killing Curse tended to be. He then looked up at Harry.

"You're… _darker_, than you used to be."

"He knew too much." Harry tried to sound confident and reasonable, though he was actually nervous about Sirius's reaction. "If he escaped, he not only had access to Order headquarters, he could also alert Voldemort that we know about the Horcruxes. If he started making more, we'd be screwed."

"I know. You don't need to defend yourself to me. I know it was the only option. That's why I didn't try to stop you."

"So you don't mind? That I'm darker now, I mean."

"No, Angel. Being raised a Black, not to mention having spent so many years in Azkaban, I'm a bit dark myself." Sirius gave him a mock severe look. "Just don't let me catch you turning your eyes red, branding followers, and trying to take over the world, you hear?"

"Not likely," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "Can you imagine the paperwork that'd be involved in running the world? Not my idea of fun."

Sirius gave a surprised bark of laughter.

..ooOOoo..

A wolf whistle echoed through the room.

"Remus, you animal you," Sirius praised, a lecherous tone to his voice. "Never knew you'd be so adventurous."

A surprised shriek. A shocked curse. Scrambling for sheets to cover naked forms.

"Sirius," Harry scolded, but couldn't quite hide the amusement in his voice. He tugged his soul mate back out the door. "Leave them be. Sorry Remus, Tonks. We came to let you know dinner was done. We'll put warming charms on it. Come down when you're, uh, finished."

"Yeah, don't mind us. Please, go back to what you were doing."

"Sirius, stop teasing."

"No, but really Harry," Sirius managed to say as he was finally yanked from the room. "Did you know Remus was that flexible?"

In the room, Remus groaned and buried his flaming face in his hands, thoroughly mortified. Tonks was blushing too, her hair had even turned red, but she was starting to find the humour in the situation. She snickered before turning to lover, and found her eyes trailing over his form. Hmm, Sirius had the right idea about going back to what they were doing. She leaned over to convince Remus of the same thing.

Outside the room Sirius was laughing and grinning widely, amused by the scene that had just played out, and delighted that his friend had let Tonks in finally. Harry however was thoughtful as he prodded Sirius back downstairs toward the kitchen.

"They got together a lot earlier this time around," he mused aloud. "I wonder how that'll affect things?'

..ooOOoo..

Harry snapped awake suddenly and with a hoarse cry. His pyjamas had been tugged down over his hips and a wet mouth had enveloped his cock. Well, this was new. It was also, undeniably, fantastic.

"Oh _god_," he gasped out, voice distorted by shock and pleasure. "What- you- oh god, don't stop. Oh, yes. Warm, wet, so fucking good. More, more! Oh, _fuck_, do that again. Your hand, yes there. And your tongue! Oh, Merlin, yes, _please_. Yes!" His voice rose to a keening tone. "_Ahh_! Fuck, sogoodmoreplease_justthere_! Uh-uh-uh-" He froze for a moment, before screaming out, "_Fuuuuck_!"

He twitched and moaned weakly as a wicked tongue licked him clean, before his trousers were tugged back up. A body crawled up from under the blankets to crouch over him. He stared dazedly into Sirius's smug face.

"Morning Angel," Sirius said, voice husky. "You've a bit of a potty mouth on you when I turn you mindless with pleasure. Did you know that?"

The man was clearly pleased with himself when all Harry could offer in response was a weak moan. Sirius rolled sideways onto his back beside Harry, before pulling the younger wizard into his arms.

When finally Harry was coherent once more he realised that the encounter, whilst unbelievably amazing, had been very one sided. He considered how to even things up. He'd never actually- but it was Sirius so-

"You, ah, you didn't." He paused and bit his lip, before sliding a hand down Sirius' chest, toward his pants. "Shall I-"

"Actually, that's not necessary." Sirius stopped him, taking and kissing the hand before resting it back on his chest.

"You don't want me to?"

"More like don't need you to," Sirius said wryly. "I swear Angel, sometimes you make me feel like a teenager with no self-control again. The taste of you on my tongue, the way you squirmed and screamed, a little pressing into the mattress and… well, that was all it took."

"Oh!" Harry's eyes widened in understanding. He laughed. "Are you suggesting that at some point you _did_ have self control? You, the impulsive Sirius Black?"

"Hey!" Sirius scowled playfully. "Is that any way to treat me after the lovely wakeup call I gave you? Not the way to get repeat performances Harry."

"My most sincere apologies, oh wonderful and sexy sir," Harry immediately apologised, voice flooded with overdone remorse. "Will you forgive this unworthy fool?"

"I suppose," Sirius drawled. "But only because you really _do_ taste divine on my tongue. I wouldn't want to deprive myself, you understand."

"Ahem. Yes, well." Harry blushed, and changed the subject slightly. "What was the occasion anyway? Not that you ever need a reason to do _that_," he hastily assured, and Sirius laughed before sobering.

"You're leaving back for Hogwarts this morning, remember?" Then Sirius grinned sinfully. "I figured I'd do something to make sure you think of me while you're away."

"Oh _yeah_," Harry agreed, voice thick as he recalled what had happed just minutes ago. "That'll do it."

..ooOOoo..

Pulling out of the Pensieve, having watched Slughorn's clearly doctored memory of discussing Horcruxes with Riddle, Harry listened to Dumbledore assign him the task of retrieving the true memory. He nodded and promised in all the right places, though he didn't mean it for a moment. He would question Slughorn a few times, for appearances sake, but doubted he'd get results. One thing was for certain though. He wasn't planning to waste any of his precious Felix Felicis on the matter this time around. Not when he already knew what the real memory would show.

..ooOOoo..

Professor Twycross, the Apparition instructor, practically gushed when Harry managed to Apparate on his 'first' try. Harry mentioned the time he'd accidentally Apparated onto the school roof. A natural, Twycross proclaimed. Most of the other students were equally impressed. Though, some such as Ron, Hermione and Malfoy instead looked jealous. Harry just sent the three sweet smiles, enjoying the way their faces flushed in anger.

..ooOOoo..

Harry complimented Luna on her Quidditch match commentary. It really was as amusing as he'd remembered. He hid a smile when a similar compliment from Neville, rather than garner the dreamy thank you Harry received, resulted in a blush spreading across the witch's features. A blush that Neville mimicked when she thanked him with a kiss to the cheek.

Harry would notice the two growing closer over the rest of term.

..ooOOoo..

Ron and Lavender broke up, loudly and messily. Harry had enjoyed the pain the pairing caused Hermione, and the growing discomfort Ron showed with Lavender's effusive doting. All the same he was glad. It meant he would no longer be subjected to the nauseating sight of the two trying to extract one another's tonsils with their tongues.

Ginny also broke up with Dean. Though her former boyfriend was clearly unhappy, she seemed without regret. Instead, she smiled quite a lot when in Harry's presence, and also flicked her hair, and laughed gaily. And she would stare quite avidly every morning as Harry pretended to drink his spiked pumpkin juice, then look expectant.

Whenever Harry showed no sudden interest in her, she would look disappointed and annoyed.

Whenever she looked disappointed and annoyed, Harry had to resist the urge to curse her into a puddle of slime.

..ooOOoo..

The term had seemed to drag on, but finally the day had come.

"No, please, no more," Dumbledore begged piteously. "I'm sorry. Forgive me. Please, no more."

"Just another cup sir," Harry coaxed. "Just a little more."

Harry remembered feeling truly terrible last time around, force-feeding Dumbledore the potion, though the headmaster had asked it of him. This time though he felt a dark delight at the man's suffering. It was an effort not to let his grin show through.

..ooOOoo..

"Severus, please," Dumbledore pleaded, not for mercy as it seemed, but in actuality for death.

"Avada Kedavra!" Snape yelled.

Green light took Dumbledore's life and he tumbled over the Astronomy Tower battlements. The moment the old man died the body bind lifted from Harry's invisibility cloak covered form. And as the body bind lifted, so too did a weight lift from his shoulders. Finally, Dumbledore was out of the picture. He was free of the old man's attention and manipulations.

He would celebrate later with Sirius. For now, he had a part to play.

"Murder!" he cried, chasing Snape and Malfoy across the grounds.

Of course, Snape had expected to be fighting a sixteen year old boy, not a twenty-nine year old wizard with more combat experience than he could imagine. And so when Harry's spells started getting a little too close, the older wizard ordered Malfoy to continue running while he turned to disable Harry somehow. He didn't think the Potter brat would be too much of a challenge. He was wrong.

As Snape dropped his wand and fell to the grass, hands trying futilely to stem the flow of blood from the deep cut sliced across his throat, Harry approached. The man's skin was rapidly paling from the usual sallow to a chalky white as his life's blood slipped away. Dark eyes looked up at Harry in almost confusion, as if to say 'this wasn't supposed to happen, this wasn't part of Dumbledore's plan'. And then, with a last sickly gargle, Severus Snape died.

Harry turned from the corpse and headed back to the school to make sure no other Death Eaters lingered. He had passed Neville, Luna, Hermione, Ron and Ginny fighting on the way out and wanted to make sure the first two, his true friends, were safe and sound. And, if the opportunity arose to send a deathly curse in the direction of any of the latter three… well it would surely be attributed to the Death Eaters.

..ooOOoo..

The wizarding world would mourn the loss of Albus Dumbledore, leader of the light, and wonder if hope had been lost. They would also praise Harry for taking down Severus Snape, the headmaster's murderer, and pray it meant the Boy-Who-Lived had the strength to take Dumbledore's place.

The Weasley family would mourn the death of their only daughter Ginny, never knowing it was Harry to spell her down. They would also grieve the damage Ron received being mauled by Fenrir Greyback. And then they would shower Harry with gratitude for taking Greyback down, not knowing he'd waited behind a statue for the werewolf to attack Ron thoroughly before finally intervening.

Remus too, would express his thanks to Harry, Greyback having been the monster to attack and turn him as a child. Many other werewolves across Britain, all more victims of Greyback's numerous turnings, would send Harry letters of similar sentiment.

Of the other Death Eaters, Neville, with Luna's help, took down Rodolphus Lestrange, the last of his parent's torturers still left alive. His grandmother had never been more proud, and for her aid took a liking to Luna as well, strange though she found the young witch. Harry managed to take down both Carrows, who in another timeline had gone on to torture the students of Hogwarts. The rest of the Death Eaters, unfortunately, managed to escape.

Equally unfortunate to Harry's mind, was that Hermione Granger came though the night unscathed. Nonetheless it was, on the whole, a victory.

..ooOOoo..

**Before seventh year…**

Harry jumped into Sirius's arms the moment he stepped through the front doors of Grimmauld Place. It wasn't as easy a move as two years ago, when he'd been reunited with his soul mate for the first time since reaching the past. Vance's potions and exercises had made Harry healthy and strong like he'd never been, not to mention taller. Fortunately Sirius had improved even more dramatically, and was still the stronger of the two, as well as taller and broader. And so the older wizard managed to catch Harry, but the breath was knocked out of him and he stumbled back two steps in the process.

"He's gone, he's gone, he's gone!" Harry whooped, the pulled back and planted an enthusiastic kiss on Sirius's lips. "Dumbledore is gone!"

"I know," Sirius said, with a wide smile himself. "He can never hurt you again. Not him, and not Snivellus the mind-rapist either."

"I'm not going to the old man's funeral," Harry announced insistently. "I don't care if people disapprove. They'd disapprove even more if I went and couldn't keep the smile off my face."

"I thought you'd feel that way. So I figured we could get the deed done that day instead."

"What?" Harry pulled back. "But that's only two days away."

"Best to do it while morale is lowest. It'll have the biggest impact that way. Plus, no one would think badly of you missing Dumbledore's funeral if that's the reason why."

"True. Plus, if we wait much longer Voldemort will start taking over the Ministry like last time. I don't want to let that happen again, even for a short while."

"So it's decided then?"

"Yeah." Harry nodded. "Now we just need to contact-" He grimaced. "_Skeeter_."

"Necessary evil, Angel. We need a witness. She's a reporter, which is ideal because she can get the news out easily, and with that bug form she can follow and watch without too much danger."

"I know, I know." He shook his head. "That can wait till tomorrow though. Now take me upstairs. We've got some celebrating to do."

Sirius didn't need to be asked twice.

..ooOOoo..

You-Know-Who Defeated!

By Rita Skeeter

Yes, ladywitches and gentlewizards, you read right. Special correspondent Rita Skeeter is privileged to be the one to announce to the wizarding world that You-Know-Who is now no more. The Dark Lord who terrorised the wizarding world has finally met his end at the hands of Harry Potter. The Boy-Who-Lived has become the Man-Who-Conquered.

As mourners flocked to Hogwarts yesterday to pay their respects to the late Albus Dumbledore, many noted the absence of Mr Potter. For, whilst the rest of wizarding Britain fell to grief and despair, Harry Potter was filled with determination. Hogwarts' headmaster may have fallen, but Mr Potter refused to let hope die with him.

Even as Dumbledore was laid to rest on Hogwarts grounds, Mr Potter and his closest and most trusted ally, whose identity shall no doubt shock and astound, were busy fighting to end the war and the fear that was enveloping Britain. And I, Rita Skeeter, was honoured to be invited to witness this historic event.

At precisely ten o'clock Mr Potter and ally launched an attack on Malfoy Manor, breaching the formidable wards through means of magics esoteric and arcane. Silent as ghosts they swept through the manor, eliminating any Death Eater and even a deadly serpent that stood in the path between them and their goal, until finally they reached You-Know-Who's inner sanctum.

You-Know-Who, though clearly shocked by the intrusion, nonetheless leapt from his throne at once, casting deadly curse after deadly curse. The Death Eaters present rushed to attack also, but with his trusted ally to watch his back and fend off the lesser threats, Mr Potter was able to focus his full attention on the Dark Lord.

I will freely admit, dear readers, that I was frozen in terror and awe as I watched the two foes duel, Light pitted against Dark, young against old, freedom against tyranny. Never before have I witnessed such an incredible display of deadly magical power and skill. At one instant I could even have sworn I saw Harry Potter defeated, but moments later he rose to his feet and continued fighting.

The battle seemed to last an age until finally, one of Harry Potter's spells struck true. The Dark Lord's body fell almost gracefully to the marble floor, where it dissolved into dust and mist. And so it was that the Dark Lord was defeated, and the Boy-Who-Lived became the Man-Who-Conquered.

Dear readers, I think I can speak for all wizarding Britain when I say we will forever be in the debt of Mr Potter and his ally. They have restored peace and freedom to our world.

..ooOOoo..

Harry put down the newspaper with an amused snort.

"As overdone as I'd expect from Rita," he observed. "How an incineration spell, several minutes after the battle, translated to 'one of Harry Potter's spells struck true' and 'the Dark Lord's body fell almost gracefully to the marble floor, where it dissolved into dust and mist' I'm not sure."

"Yeah, but she was the best choice for a witness to spread the news. Greedy enough for the scoop to agree to Vow not to relate anything but what we gave her permission to, and popular enough to win over the readers.

"How that woman is popular I don't know."

Sirius shrugged. "Guess wizards just like a bit of drama with their reporting."

"She is good at that." Harry glanced at the article again and a smile quirked his lips. "I wonder what Dobby'll think about his Apparating us in being described as 'magics esoteric and arcane'."

"He'll probably like it," Sirius said with a snort. "That's elf got even more fondness for drama than Rita and all her most loyal readers combined."

"True. And she's doubtless got the public _very_ curious about my mysterious ally. The other owl was from Minister Bones, requesting a meeting this afternoon."

"Probably wants a debriefing of how things really went down," Sirius observed. "Bones is too sensible to believe everything Skeeter or the Prophet says."

"Well, while I'm there I'll bring up that you were the ally the Prophet article spoke about. If things go well, Skeeter'll be releasing another article revealing you as my ally, along with proof of your innocence and pardon, within the week," Harry said, feeling expectant already. "A little more Felix Felicis before the meeting probably won't hurt either, just to be sure. The liquid luck we took certainly helped things go perfectly at Malfoy Manor, after all."

..ooOOoo..

Grave Miscarriage of Justice Revealed!  
(Sirius Black Innocent All Along! Helped Defeat You-Know-Who!)

By Rita Skeeter

…

..ooOOoo..

Harry had never seen Sirius as giddy as he was the remainder of the summer after news of his innocence broke. He revelled in everything from the simple pleasure of standing outside in the sunshine without fear of being seen, to wandering the streets of Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley again. He especially delighted in the shock and whispers that followed his appearances, and made sure to drag Harry out regularly, often with Remus and Tonks or Neville and Luna, or even all four accompanying them.

During one such outing Tonks impulsively dragged them all to the Ministry and there had an official in the records office wed herself and Remus. Remus was as surprised as anyone else by the suddenness but went along with it all the same, replacing the modest engagement ring he'd put on Tonks's finger some months ago with a simpler wedding band. Not for the first time, Harry wondered how the difference in the progression of the Lupin relationship would affect things. Last time the wedding had happened a month later.

Meanwhile, back at Grimmauld Place, the renovations were finally completed. Sirius, Kreacher, Dobby and Winky were all very proud of their accomplishment. Sirius declared that the house barely resembled the gloomy home he'd grown up in, and he could see living there the rest of his life quite happily. He renamed it Marauder Manor, in memory of happy times. His only regret, he said, was that he'd not been able to decorate the whole house in Gryffindor red and gold. Winky had refused to let him, putting her foot down insisting painting _everything_ in two such garish colours would not be tasteful. The former Crouch elf had really recovered her confidence since bonding to the Black family.

..ooOOoo..

Harry slipped into the bathroom silently and froze. Even through the steam Sirius's naked back side was clearly visible and he was- well, gorgeous didn't even cover it. Harry's eyes trailed from tip to toe, lingering in various places. Broad shoulders, a perfectly sculpted arse, strong thighs. In his daze he'd delayed in closing the door, and Sirius, alerted by the cooler air, looked over his shoulder.

"Harry?" The man asked, eyes wide.

Harry said nothing. Instead, he softly closed the door then moved purposely toward the shower. He paused only to strip off his robe, tug his pants over his building erection and down his legs, kicking them aside, before continuing forward once more.

Sirius had gone quite still, and his eyes had become heavy-lidded and intent. The moment Harry stepped into the shower Sirius finally turned to face him, tugging the younger wizard into his arms beneath the spray. Harry could feel now that he wasn't the only one wanting more at this moment. But Sirius's actions were surprisingly restrained. He held Harry close, and pressed their lips together softly and chastely once, then twice, before pulling back and resting their foreheads together.

"_Harry_." The low, tension-filled tone of Sirius's voice was at odds with his almost gentle actions. "You're trying to kill me I swear, _tempting_ me like this." He swallowed hard, closed his eyes for a moment as if regaining control, before opening them again. "You know we have to be careful not to go too far. I want to court you Harry. We can't-"

"I know," Harry reassured him. "It's just, this is our last day before I'm headed back to Hogwarts again. I thought maybe, this time _I_ would be the one to do something to make sure _you_ think of _me_ while we're apart."

Harry knew Sirius had connected the dots, recalled the time he himself had said something similar, because instantly grey eyes turned molten silver and pupils flared. Harry pressed him back toward the wall and Sirius went willingly, watching heatedly as Harry aimed the showerhead away and then lowered himself to his knees.

Harry felt his breath hitch as he looked up at Sirius. Despite that they'd been together two years now, they'd always been careful about keeping clothing on to avoid temptations to go too far. Neither had seen each other fully naked before this moment. And while Sirius had developed a semi-frequent habit of waking Harry with his mouth on him beneath the covers, Harry had never done the same. So the most skin Harry had seen of Sirius was when he was shirtless. Certainly not… well, all this.

Harry's breathing quickened and he unconsciously bit his lower lip. He felt the strangest mix of nervous uncertainly and hot arousal as he ran hands up Sirius's ankles, calves then thighs. Those hands then trailed to the front and gripped so that Harry could, tentatively, take the head of Sirius's cock in his mouth, the move stretching his lips almost uncomfortably wide. He lapped at the tip, finding the taste salty.

Sirius groaned gustily, releasing the breath he'd apparently been holding. His hands, Harry saw, clenched into fists where they pressed back against the shower wall. Harry firmed his grip and took more in his mouth before sucking. Sirius groaned again. Harry's mind raced, trying to remember the ways Sirius had pleasured him like this, so that he might copy the movements. But to be honest, he didn't remember much of those encounters apart from blinding pleasure.

He pulled back suddenly, releasing Sirius with a soft popping sound. The man groaned again, this time however the sound conveyed disappointment. Harry rested his forehead against one of the toned thighs before him, hoping that it would hide the redness in his cheeks, and the embarrassment on his face.

"Harry?" a husky voice queried from above.

Drawing on every trace of his Gryffindor courage, Harry forced himself to speak. Mortifying as this would be, he had to say it, because he wanted to be sure Sirius enjoyed this as much as he always made sure Harry did.

"I don't- I mean-"

"Harry?" The voice sounded a little concerned now. A hand gently petted his bowed head. "Hey, Angel, if you don't like to do this, you shouldn't force yourself."

"No, I- I mean I don't think I do. Dislike it, that is. I mean, I wouldn't know." The hand had stilled on his hair. "I've never done this before," he finally managed to say clearly.

"Never?" Sirius sounded surprised.

"Of course not," Harry huffed. "When would I have had the chance? I told you about my only two relationships, and Cho and Ginny were both _girls_. As in, without the right equipment for me to do anything like this."

"Yeah, I remember that, but I figured you meant two _official_ relationships. I thought you would've had some casual ones in there somewhere. I mean, that you didn't sort of suggests that I'm the only guy you've ever been intimate with."

"You are."

Sirius's must have really liked something about that fact, because Harry felt him twitch in the hand that still loosely encircled him. After a moment Sirius's hand slid down to cup his cheek, but Harry wasn't ready to look up yet.

"I meant what I said before you know Angel. You don't have to do this. If not because you know you don't like to, then because you're not comfortable or ready."

"No, I want to," Harry said quietly. "Just-" He bit his lip and took a breath, before raising his head to look up at Sirius through his lashes. "Can you teach me what to do?"

And the twitch from before was nothing to the one that question garnered. Harry his some confidence rise, seeing how very much Sirius liked the idea of teaching him. Then fingers threaded through his hair and Harry willingly let their grip guide his movements, and followed every piece of advice given with focus and even enthusiasm. He loved the way Sirius's voice grew more and more strained as Harry complied with his directions, the way hips tried and sometimes failed not to thrust too deeply into his mouth, and the way the grip in his hair grew tighter and more insistent until, with an almost howl from Sirius, Harry's mouth was filled with a thick, salty liquid.

Harry finally pulled his mouth away and Sirius slowly slumped down onto the shower floor looking quite sated. Harry absentmindedly raised a thumb to wipe from the corner of his lip and chin a smear of white that had escaped his mouth before he could swallow it all down. One second he was licking his thumb clean, trying to ignore his own now throbbing arousal, the next he heard a groan and was being dragged into Sirius's lap, back to chest, and a larger hand was grasping his erection with intent.

"My precious, perfect Angel with your lovely, sinful mouth," Sirius said, voice huskily and rumbling, and almost worshipful. Then he started working his hand up and down. "Let me take care of this for you."

* * *

**Reviews make me happy (hint, hint).**


	4. Part, the Fourth

**Posted**: 11 April, 2011

**Disclaimer**: I do not own anything in this story that is recognisable from the Harry Potter books, movies, etc. Everything else however (eg. story plot, original characters, etc.) stems from my own imagination and belongs to me. No copyright infringement is intended and I am not profiting financially from this story in any way.

**Author's Note**: So, something came outta nowhere with this chapter: mpreg. Don't run away! I honestly don't know how it happened, because I normally wouldn't touch mpreg with a ten foot pole myself, and yet my muse insisted on it. I'm so ashamed. If it's any consolation to those with a similar opinion to myself on the theme, there's just a few mentions in passing and one single scene, which I promise isn't at all gory and detailed. Actually, if anything, the scene's treated with a touch of humour and irony, thanks to Sirius. So yeah, to repeat: don't run away, give it a read.

Oh, and also ... final chapter! Done. Caput. Finished. No more. Hope everyone enjoyed reading, because I enjoyed this little exercise in trying to write smut, even if posting was a bit nerve-wracking at times. And thanks heaps to everyone who reviewed!

* * *

**Part, the Fourth**

**Seventh year…**

"Harry!"

"Huh?" Harry shook of his daze. "Sorry Neville, you wanted something?"

"Are you alright? You looked a bit out of it. I called you three times before you responded."

"I think he was thinking naughty thoughts," Luna, on the other side of Neville, supplied in a tone somehow both knowing and dreamy.

Harry flushed bright red, thankful that most people tended to dismiss Luna's odd comments. Neville on the other hand… was now bright red too, and awkwardly not looking in the other wizard's direction. Harry resisted the urge to groan. Neville adored Luna, who had during the summer consented to be his girlfriend, and was one of the few who knew how insightful she could be. That would teach Harry to go daydreaming in the Hogwarts Great Hall, over breakfast, about the evening he spent in the shower with Sirius.

"Um, er, well Harry, I was just wanting to say you have a, uh, package," Neville manage to stutter out.

Harry turned and, sure enough, there was Hedwig waiting impatiently on the table before him. He untied the delivery and offered her some bacon, which she took before flying off again. Harry then turned his attention to the package. It was from Sirius, and wrapped in soft white cloth, held closed with different coloured silk ribbons. Harry's heart thudded faster, knowing what this was. Apparently, he wasn't the only one to have realised either. Across from him and down a few seats, Lavender Brown gave a loud gasp.

"Harry!" she yelled breathlessly. Several heads turned in their direction. "Is that what I think it is?"

She was scrambling from her seat and moving to sit opposite for a better view, dragging Parvati with her. Several others crowded around, curious what the Man-Who-Conquered, latest and greatest topic of interest since his defeat of Voldemort a few months ago, was up to. Harry resisted the urge to groan, reminding himself that they'd waited to formalise the courting till he was back at Hogwarts because they _wanted_ an audience. An audience would help spread the word faster, rather than have the rumours dragged out slowly.

"If you think it's a courting gift, then yes," he said.

"Oh, how _romantic_!" Lavender said, and several other girls agreed.

"What colours do you have Harry?" Neville asked him from his left, seemingly having forgotten the earlier embarrassment in light of Harry's surprising gift.

Harry looked down to where his hand had been absentmindedly fingering the soft cloth. It was white, as tradition dictated, symbolising purity. The colours of the ribbons each had meanings too. They were chosen by the petitioner depending on what they wanted to say: what they offered to a union, sought from a union, and hoped for in the future of a union. Harry inspected the ones Sirius had chosen.

"Red," he said first, fingering the crimson ribbon.

"What tone?" Parvati asked.

For every colour there were a dozen tones, to differentiate the different meanings possible for the colour. Red could mean love, passion, courage, excitement, and a number of other things. Harry had studied well the book Remus found him about wizarding courtship, and had even memorised all the colour tones till he could differentiate them at a glance. This one in particular meant…

"Love," he said, with a smile.

"There's another red one," Lavender said. "What's that one? I've never bothered to learn them myself."

"Er, passion," Harry admitted, trying not to blush as the good natured teasing that followed. He forged on, hoping to distract the persistent ones from their whistling and winking, and himself from renewed memories of the shower encounter. "Pink for tenderness, a second pink for acceptance, yellow for happiness, another yellow for peace, purple for beauty." Harry's lips quirked, wondering if that referred to him or Sirius himself, the vain git. "Blue for loyalty, a blue for trust, black-"

"Black?" Lavender squawked, and was smacked by her friend for it.

"Not all meanings of black are negative," Parvati lectured. "I think that one means eternity."

"Oh, like together forever?" Lavender almost swooned. "That's so sweet."

"It's for eternity," Harry confirmed, then continued. There were only a few left. "The second black is for style," he said wryly. That one was definitely down to Sirius's vanity. "Brown for home, green for fertility." Some people teased, but Harry just smiled softly at that one. "And- and blue again, for freedom."

"Freedom?" Parvati asked. "That's an odd one for a courting proposition."

"No, it's-" Harry paused to swallow. "It's perfect actually."

He stared at the rainbow fountain of silken ribbons, fourteen in all, contemplating the message. He was more than pleased.

"Well? Open it already!" a voice urged from the still-gawking crowd.

Harry nodded and carefully began untying the ribbons, each coming loose with a spark, before setting them aside carefully. He fully intended to keep them all a memento. When finally they were all removed, he carefully folded back the soft white material, revealing what lay within. Several people gasped, and oohed and aahed.

"It's beautiful," Luna observed, gazing wide-eyed from around Neville.

"Absolutely gorgeous," Lavender agreed.

Harry agreed. Reverently he reached out and traced the collar. It was made of gold and designed to sit snugly around the throat, with discrete joints at the sides so it could be put on, and a clasp in the back. There was also a clear colourless gem front and centre, as was required. The band, an inch or so wide at the front but tapering some at the back, was engraved with decorative scrollwork framing calligraphic runes. Fourteen runes in all, each matching the meaning of a ribbon. That wasn't required, but rather an initiative on Sirius's behalf. One that Harry quite liked.

"A collar?" an unwelcome voice spoke up.

Harry was a bit startled by Hermione's surprise, but he supposed perhaps Dumbledore, being the progressive sort he was, might not have taken the time to teach his granddaughter protégé the older traditions. Plus, from what he knew, Hermione _had_ still been raised in the Muggle world, by her Muggle father and Squib-line mother, neither of whom had been aware of her early training.

"It symbolises belonging," Lavender said in a dreamy, romantic sort of voice. "When Harry puts it on, it means he belongs to his petitioner unless they break the courting off."

"Belong? With a collar? More like ownership," Hermione said scornfully. "Some barbaric pureblood ritual, I take it?"

"What?" Lavender's voice had abruptly turned sharp. "It is not! It's a perfectly respectable and romantic tradition. And it's not ownership when it goes both ways. The petitioner will have an identical collar, and Harry's will only lock if they're already wearing it, so it can lock at the same time. It's about belonging to each other, not one person owning another person."

"Exactly," Parvati agreed, backing up her friend. "And a lot of purebloods actually don't follow the courtships anymore, because more and more they're marrying for blood-line preservation, rather than love, which the courtship can't be completed without. The enchantments won't even let the collar lock unless all the conditions are met."

"Conditions?" Hermione couldn't help but ask, loathe not to know something.

"First, the petitioner's intentions have to match the ribbons they chose," Parvati lectured, sounding uncannily like Hermione usually did. "That's already guaranteed because they would have had to use certain spells to tie the ribbons. The sparks they gave when Harry removed them showed they were done properly. Then there's motives. The collar will only lock if both are wearing it with pure motives. They both must wish to court or be courted, with the goal of love and eventually marriage. And the final condition is-"

"Consummation," Lavender said with a wicked grin, sparing a wink for Harry. "Neither can have consummated their relationship yet. They don't have to be virginal in general, just with one another. And once the collar locks they can't have sex, proper sex, with each other or anyone else until the courtship is finalised, by either breaking it off or finally getting married. Otherwise, the collar falls off. And it turns black for whoever cheated, which considered _really_ shameful."

Hermione had finally subsided, Harry was pleased to see. He picked up the collar finally, admiring it from all angles. Everyone fell quiet, watching expectantly.

"Are you going to accept Harry?" Neville asked him quietly, but everyone could hear in the silence.

In response, Harry just smiled and moved it to his neck, closing the clasp at the back. It immediately shut with an audible click. There was a flash of light, from the gem on the front Harry knew, though he couldn't see it from this angle. Several people gasped.

"Oh Harry," Lavender said, eyes wide with shock and delight. "It's a _boy_? It is a boy, isn't it? I didn't know you flew that way."

Immediately, the room broke into whispers and babbling and gossip.

Harry took Lavender's comment to mean the gem had turned green rather than purple. He'd expected that. Green was, he knew, the symbol of the Bearer in the relationship, so named because they were the one who would bear the children. Purple on the other hand, was for the Sire, whose family name the Bearer and the children they birthed would take.

Neither was necessarily, despite what he'd thought at first reading it, a sign of which partner was the dominant or submissive sexually. Nor was it a sign of who held the power in the relationship. It could hardly be really, when a male-female partnership almost always indicated the female as Bearer. After all, not every wife let their husband run the family.

Just look at the Weasleys. They mightn't have used the courting tradition, but they were still a male-female marriage. Harry couldn't ever imagine Mrs Weasley as the quiet one of that relationship and Mr Weasley as the ruler of the roost. It was very much the opposite.

"The emerald matches your eyes wonderfully," Parvati complimented, before frowning. "But- oh, there's flecks of purple in there!"

"What?" Harry's hands flew to his throat. That hadn't been covered in his book. "What's that mean?"

"It's very rare," Parvati said, clearly enjoying the rapt attention her knowledge was earning her. "It happens in pairings when the Sire is willing to carry at least one child, for the purposes of carrying on the Bearer's family name as well. When you marry, you'll both take both family names, hyphenating them, but his will get to go at the end as the primary Sire."

"Oh, how thoughtful," gushed Lavender. "You _are_ the last Potter Harry. It's important the name doesn't die with you, and they must understand that."

"Oh," Harry said.

He was shocked and, after he thought about it a moment, pleased. He liked the thought that the Potter name wouldn't die with him.

"So what will your new name be if you get married?" Lavender asked eagerly and everyone leaned forward to hear who the mystery petitioner was.

"Harry Potter-Black," he answered, quite liking the sound of that. "Husband of Sirius Black." He liked _that _saying that even more.

..ooOOoo..

Hermione cornered him alone a few days later and started ranting about how inappropriate it was, that Sirius was much too old and taking advantage, and how it was alright because she thought she'd found a way to 'free' him. She refused to listen to Harry's explanations, refused to be deterred by his pointing out it was none of her business. Instead she raised her wand and pointed it at his collar. Harry snapped.

Fifteen minutes later, a dazed Hermione wandered off towards the library. Though it wasn't quite as satisfying as throwing an Avada Kedavra at her and using her death to create a Horcrux, he thought the punishment was fitting. Hermione Granger now thought she was exactly what she presented herself as: a clever but ultimately Muggle-born and Muggle-raised witch, who had no knowledge of Hogwarts before her letter came.

She no longer remembered that Dumbledore had been her grandfather, she no longer remembered that he'd trained her from an early age, she no longer recalled any of the advanced and obscure knowledge Dumbledore had bestowed on her, and she no longer remembered how she had been assigned the role of controlling Harry according to Dumbledore's vision. Without all these memories, she saw no further reason to interfere with Harry's life. After all, they were just former friends that had grown apart. And so Hermione Granger never bothered Harry Potter again

..ooOOoo..

Being of age now, physically and officially rather than just in his mind and soul, Harry was permitted to leave the castle whenever he liked outside class time. Such students just needed to let their head of house know, so no one worried whether they'd gone missing. McGonagall was headmistress now, so the Gryffindor Headship had gone to Professor Sinistra who taught Astronomy. The first weekend after receiving his collar, Harry gave Sinistra his notice, and headed for the school gates.

Harry knew it wasn't mere coincidence that had a number of other of-age students heading out that same morning, as well as many underage ones just _happening_ to hang out by the gates. He rolled his eyes internally at their nosiness, though he knew it was his own fault for having discussed his plans with Neville and Luna over breakfast, where others could overhear. He focussed on his destination.

The moment he reached the school gates to find Sirius leant against the stone wall, waiting for him, his annoyance was forgotten. His betrothed, for that was the proper title for someone you were courting, looking particularly handsome today. His silvery grey robes set off his eyes, and were well fitted to emphasise the strong body beneath. Around his throat was a collar almost identical to Harry's own. Sirius spotted him quickly and broke out into a heart-melting smile.

They both stepped toward each other and met halfway. Sirius's hands took his before his head ducked down for a long, sweet kiss. They were interrupted by the sound of whispers and giggles and gasps. Sirius glanced pointedly over Harry's shoulder and his lips quirked in an amused smirk.

"Morning Angel," Sirius said. More whispers at the pet name. "What's with the entourage? I didn't realise we'd need chaperones with the collars preventing anything _too_ naughty." And again, more whispering, and much giggling.

"Siri, don't encourage them," Harry huffed, but was too happy to really sound too annoyed. "They all _coincidentally_ happened to have reasons for being by the gates this morning."

"Ah, I get it." Sirius nodded solemnly, but Harry saw the wicked light in those grey eyes. "We have us some voyeurs." Some seemed embarrassed. Even more joined them in that feeling when Sirius raised his voice to show the next comment was directed at their audience. "Kinky folks, very kinky."

Harry tried not to laugh at the many red faces, and students suddenly having business elsewhere, dragging the reluctant along behind them. Soon, they were alone. Sirius grinned in triumph, pleased with the effect of his words, and returned to kissing Harry. When finally he pulled back, both were breathing a little heavily.

"It really is good to see you Angel."

"You too Siri." Harry's eyes trailed to the band of gold around the other man's throat. One hand reached up to trace the runes, then circle the gem in the centre. "Did you notice…?"

"The green specks in the purple?" Sirius asked, smiling down at Harry. He pressed a kiss to Harry's forehead, just beside the scar that had faded noticeably after Voldemort's defeat . "Yeah. It wasn't really a surprise. It's something I've been thinking about for awhile. You being the last of your family, I mean."

"So you're really willing to-"

"At least one. Just to make sure the Potter name goes on."

"I- thank you. I hadn't even thought about-"

"Sure. Now come on." Sirius slung an arm around Harry's waist and led them towards Hogsmeade. "We've got a date to get to. What? What's wrong?"

"Well, you never did tell me where we're going. It's not- not Madam Puddifoot's, is it?" Harry asked hesitantly, trying not to wrinkle his nose.

"That pink hellhole? Merlin, no!" Sirius snorted. Harry was relieved. "I'd pick Azkaban over that place. No, there's this nice restaurant hidden in a little back lane that's supposed to make the most delicious food you've ever tasted. It's a bit fancier than Three Broomsticks, but not too posh, and no pink I promise. But that's later, for lunch. I figured we'd just wander around a bit till then."

They got a lot of looks and attention as they toured Hogsmeade. A number of the older students who'd fled to the town after Sirius's comments regained their confidence till, along with several villagers, they once more had an entourage of sorts. Eventually lunch time rolled around. Sirius's restaurant of choice really did serve quite delicious food. It also had a sudden , 'mysterious' influx of customers that morning, just 'coincidentally' turning up with or directly after Harry and Sirius.

The attention was a bit annoying, and Harry hoped the novelty of he and Sirius as a couple would fade soon. Sirius though, attention seeker that he was, enjoyed it. He also enjoyed making risqué or ironic comments that embarrassed their watchers. Said comments also amused Harry, saving the situation from being too bothersome. Plus of course, he was with Sirius, his soul mate and betrothed. It made it hard to be anything but happy.

Sirius escorted Harry back up to the school gates later that evening. He left him with a kiss so passionate it had Harry's toes curling and the few still lingering busybodies flushed and impressed, and with plenty to gossip about for the next week at least.

..ooOOoo..

A couple of months later, on another of their regular weekend dates, Sirius had Harry pressed against a wall in an alleyway. It was fairly clean thankfully, so Harry hadn't objected when Sirius dragged him down the little area, which was wedged between two stores . Instead he'd willingly and enthusiastically returned the kiss given him, which had turned to groping, until was backed against a wall with Sirius's body pressed against him.

One hand was threaded in Harry's hair and the other was inside his robes, running restlessly over his back and then sneaking under the waistband of his trousers, when Sirius grinded into him. Harry met the movement with a rock of his own hips, and then- squeaked in shock.

"Fuck," muttered Sirius, after giving a sort of jerking movement. He groaned, sounding displeased, and buried his face in Harry's neck. "Fuck," he repeated.

"Sirius, what was that?"

"You read that book Remus gave you right?"

"Yeah, of course."

"Remember what happens when two betrothed are starting to go too far?"

"The collar gives them a jolt to warn them that-" Harry stopped, eyes wide, and pushed Sirius back to look at him. "Tell me you're joking."

"Fraid not."

"But we've done more than this before! And the collars still accepted us. It's not like we were planning to 'consummate' here in an alley."

"Hmm, I guess that book wasn't as comprehensive as Remus thought," Sirius said. "There's different rules for what you can't have done if you want a collar to accept, and what you can't do while wearing a collar. The first only requires no sexual intercourse. The second… is a bit more strict." Then Sirius sighed heavily, looking positively petulant. "Though I didn't think it'd be so strict that a bit of rubbing and grinding with our clothes on would set off the warning."

Harry's mind was whirring. Bad enough his and Sirius dates had all remained fairly chaste so far, due to their slowly declining number of watchers. Today had been the first day not a single person followed them about, and Harry had been eagerly anticipating some 'alone time' with Sirius. But now? No sex was one thing. But no getting off _at all_ with each other? That was a whole other kettle of fish. A terrible, unacceptable kettle at that. There was no set minimum length for a betrothal so…

"How do you feel about getting married today?" Harry asked impulsively.

"Today?" Sirius's head cocked to one side, as he looked down at Harry, bemused. "Did you just propose marriage to me? In an alley?"

"It though you already did the proposing when you gave me this." Harry touched his collar.

"I proposed a _betrothal_, not a marriage."

"Oh. Then yes. Well?" he asked impatiently. "I already love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you, so my half of the requirement to finalise the betrothal with a marriage are met."

"For my side too," Sirius said quietly, earnestly.

Harry smiled, heart fluttering at the confirmation. And then he remembered the important goal he was aiming to achieve, and completely ruined the romantic mood with his next comment.

"Well," Harry said, "then you can't expect me to stay celibate for no reason, can you?"

Sirius gave a loud, barking laugh, not seeming to mind at all Harry's ruining of the romantic mood. He leaned down and pressed a swift but spirited kiss to Harry's lips.

"Unfortunately, I think our friends would kill us if we didn't hold a proper ceremony and invite them," Sirius said, then at Harry's disappointed look quickly added, "_But_, if you think you can wait just a few weeks, how's Christmas sound?"

"A few weeks?" Harry considered, before reluctantly acceding. "I suppose." A thought occurred to Harry then. "A Christmas wedding though? Are you a closet romantic and I've never realised?"

"Nah, just figured if we made it Christmas Day, I'm not likely to forget an anniversary."

Harry rolled his eyes. That sounded more like the Sirius he knew and loved.

..ooOOoo..

The wedding was small affair. Harry refused to make a production of it, no matter how much of celebrities they both were, and how many persistent requests they received from fans and reporters begging to attend. Sirius had agreed and so there were only eight other people present for their wedding. An older wizard with both the authority to perform the ceremony and an understanding of discretion, Remus and Tonks, and Neville and Luna. And of course Kreacher, Dobby and Winky in the background, watching with tearful joy.

They made vows and exchanged rings. The rings were similar in style to their collars: rune-inscribed gold with a colourless gem that glowed and changed colour when slid them on, to indicate Bearer and Sire. Then the older wizard cast the final spells and rings and collars tingled, even as they could feel a magic binding them together, anchored by their love.

The older wizard, duties done, wished them well and departed. The elves had prepared a feast and Harry and Sirius ate and accepted congratulations from their friends until finally, Sirius grew impatient.

"Alright, enough of this. If you don't mind, Angel and I have a marriage to consummate."

"Sirius!" Harry said, but the embarrassed cry was lost in the vortex of a sudden Side-Along-Apparition.

They appeared in their bedroom at Marauder Manor. Before Harry could scold his soul mate for the manner of their exit, Sirius's mouth captured his and Harry quite forgot what he was going to say. Things blurred from there until they were both lying naked on the bed, Sirius urging Harry to bend his knees up and spread his legs, then trailing fingers back to his opening. Harry tensed a little, nervous at this new experience.

"Just relax for me Angel," Sirius said, then whispered a string of incantations that caused his lover to squeak. "Cleansing and lubrication spells," Sirius explained, then pressed a finger into Harry's now slick passage.

Harry's heart thudded so fiercely he was surprised it wasn't audible. It felt odd, but also exciting in an erotic way. He bit his lip as the finger thrust in and out until Sirius started to ease in a second. Harry tensed at the slight burning pain and Sirius whispered soothing nonsense, turning his head to nuzzle distracting at Harry's cock. Slowly, as Sirius continued working the fingers in and out, the pain began to ease. And then there were was a third finger and Harry gave a gasp of pain, actually reaching down to grab Sirius's wrist and halt the movement.

"Shh, it's alright Angel." Sirius gently but firmly removed the grip from his wrist, and inexorably pressed his three fingers in deeper. He grasped Harry's hip firmly so he couldn't squirm away. "It's okay, just let me find-"

Harry gave a sudden, keening cry. Panting in shock and pleasure, he looked down to find Sirius grinning smugly up at him. The older man repeated his movements, curling his fingers deep inside Harry, pressing against some special spot, and once more Harry cried out. The pain was almost completely forgotten as a mouth enveloped his cock and those fingers began to rub and rub and rub relentlessly at that place inside him. He barely noticed as a fourth finger was added and when he came, with a wailing scream, he saw stars.

Harry was still lost to a daze as fingers slipped out of him, and his legs were spread wider and knees bent back further so that Sirius could settle himself in the cradle of his Harry's thighs. He blinked back to awareness however as he felt a hard length, easily as wide as the four fingers, slide into him. Harry made a breathy sound, somewhere between a groan and a whine. He gripped at Sirius's upper arms and bit his lip, thankful for the slowly fading post-orgasmic haze. The remembered pleasure helped dull the burning pain of the intrusion.

When Sirius had seated himself fully he paused to let Harry adjust, lowering his head to the younger man's shoulder. Harry could feel the tenseness in the form above him, the heaving of the broad chest, the fast hot breaths against his neck, and appreciated the restraint his lover was showing. When Sirius started moving again it was with a gentle rocking, accompanied by languid, wet kisses to Harry's lips.

"Hmm, more" Harry hummed when the pain had faded.

Sirius was happy to oblige and began withdrawing and thrusting, though just a little. One of his hands moved from where it was planted by Harry's shoulder to instead grasp his younger lover's hip. And then he tilted Harry's pelvis a certain way and on the next thrust…

"Oh!" Harry cried, surprised but pleased. "Again."

Sirius repeated the move, over and over, continual gentle thrusts against that wonderful spot inside. Harry's erection was quickly recovering from the earlier orgasm. And then, no sooner than was he fully hard again, Sirius suddenly withdrew almost all the way before pushing back in powerfully, the movement thrusting against that place inside Harry with such force he screamed. Above him, Sirius's face was a mixture of self-satisfaction and unbearable lust as he repeated the move again and again.

The hand on his hip slid around to Harry's erection and gripped firmly. Somehow, even without the grip tilting Harry's hips, the thrusts still managed to hit just the right spot, and accompanied by the hand now working purposefully up and down his cock, Harry knew he wouldn't last long. He threw his head back, almost incoherent with pleasure, only the occasional whined 'fuck' escaped his lips. Sirius's head dived down, sucking and nibbling at the exposed neck, thrusting and stroking faster and faster until suddenly, he bit down. Harry's back arched right off the bed as he screamed, clenching down on Sirius, who quickly followed him over the edge.

It was some time before either noticed the events that had accompanied their completion. Sirius finally regained enough strength to pull out and, as Harry winced at the slight pain, Sirius did to. And then, as Sirius felt surprise at the pain, Harry did as well. They looked at each other in realisation, then with a joy that echoed and amplified between them. Harry laughed in delight.

"The soul bond," he said. "It's complete. I can feel you and you can feel me. And we'll always be able to find each other."

Sirius smiled, clearly just as pleased. Harry leaned up, intending to give a passionate kiss, only to stop short in surprise as their movement caused their collars to fall free. He was worried a moment before remembering that they were supposed to do that. After the marriage and the spells linking the rings and collars, the latter were supposed to unlock as soon as the marriage had been consummated, even as the rings would become irremovable.

Harry watched as Sirius carefully took both their collars and set them aside on the bedside table, before returning to Harry and curling around him. He clasped his love, his _husband_ in return and like that, both happy and sated, tired and content, and most importantly together, they fell asleep.

..ooOOoo..

On February fourteenth, Valentines Day and Luna's birthday, Neville presented his girlfriend with her gift. It was wrapped in soft white cloth, held closed with several coloured ribbons. As Luna opened it, her face was lit with a joy Harry had never seen, and it made her look quite beautiful. She opened the courting gift and picked up the silver choker within, which was shaped like a delicate, twisting, flowered vine. It matched the one Neville was wearing, and Luna slipped it on at once. They both immediately locked with a click.

..ooOOoo..

Harry was torn as to how to feel when, in mid-March, Tonks birthed not a son but a daughter. He should have known, he supposed. There was a certain element of chance and randomness to the conception of a child, and how the genes came together. His godson Teddy it seemed was lost to him, but in the little boy's place was a precious baby girl who Sirius and Harry had been named co-godparents of.

..ooOOoo..

**Some years later…**

"Merlin's hairy bullocks!" Sirius yelled, followed by several even more florid curses. "How the bloody hell did you go through this twice Harry?" He groaned in pain. "You're stark raving mad," he said in a strained voice. "It's the only explanation."

"It'll be over soon," Harry soothed, brushing back sweaty strands of Sirius's hair. "And I did it because it was always worth it in the end."

"One more push should do it, Mr Potter-Black," Madam Pomfrey said.

"Did you hear that? Almost there!" Harry said, giddy with excitement despite his husband's obvious pain. "Push Siri, push."

"Oh I'll push alright," Sirius growled. "I'll push you, right out of bed if a Gestational Potion ever comes near my lips again."

"I said push, Mr Potter-Black," Pomfrey said again, sharply.

And push Sirius did until, with one last groan of pain turned relief, he slumped back on the bed. An infant's squalling echoed through the Hogwarts infirmary, loud and healthy. Pomfrey checked and cleaned the babe, before settling it into Harry's arms.

"A boy or girl?" Harry asked whisper-quiet, looking down at the bundled form in awe.

"It's a son, Harry," Pomfrey answered with rare affection and familiarity.

"Well come on then," Sirius's exhausted voice said. "Let's see what all that Merlin-cursed pain was about." Harry rolled his eyes but nonetheless brought the child into Sirius's view. He was rewarded with the sight of the man's eyes going suddenly very soft and tender, and a hand reaching out to caress cherubic newborn features. "Oh, he's perfect isn't he? Except the hair of course. Poor thing didn't manage to escape that mess of yours like the other two did."

"Hey!" Harry objected, but smiled knowing Sirius was just joking.

"Course as the official Potter sprog, it's only fitting he got the Potter hair, I suppose," Sirius allowed. "I wonder if he'll look more like you or me when he grows a bit?"

"Well, he has your eyes," Harry said, pleased, "like Alphie."

"Speaking of," Sirius said, and looked up to Pomfrey. "Could you let them know they can come in now?"

"Just let me check you over first Mr Potter-Black, and make sure there are no complications."

After several spells the nurse was satisfied her patient was well, and she left to fulfil Sirius's request. She'd barely left the infirmary for a second before two small forms barged in. They dashed over to where Sirius lay, with Harry seated on his bed's edge, holding a wrapped bundle.

"Is that it?" the older child demanded. The girl had long sleek black hair, Sirius's aristocratic features, and emerald eyes. "Well? Is it a boy or a girl?"

"Lily, Alphie, meet your new sibling," Harry said, getting off the bed and kneeling down so they could see. Sirius watched with affection as his older two children crowded close to peek at the newest member of the family. "Your baby brother, James Neville."

They'd decided, back when they were expecting Lily, to save the name James for the Potter heir. Their first had been born a girl of course, so it hadn't mattered, and they named her Lily Luna. Their middle child though was a boy, and they had settled on Alphard 'Alphie' Remus.

"A boy?" Lily cried in disgust. Her parents chuckled at the reaction. "Well," she said, after looking the babe over again, "at least he's cute I suppose."

"Bwover?" little Alphie asked. His big grey eyes, covered by silver-framed glasses, and set in a face that perfectly mixed both his fathers' features, stared at the baby in confusion. "Why's he so smawll?"

"Don't worry Alphie-boy," Sirius spoke in a tired but happy voice, "he'll get bigger soon enough."

"And then pway Quidditch wiv me?"

"Urgh, boys and Quidditch," Lily groaned. "You both realise you'll have to start all over again, don't you?"

"Start what all over again princess?" Harry asked.

"The baby-making of course," she said as though it should be obvious, rolling her eyes. "I need a little _sister_ to play tea parties with."

Later, after Luna and Neville had stopped by to visit with their little girl Alice, and Remus and Tonks with their children Melissa and Puck, and some of Harry's DADA students had managed to sneak in as well, the room finally cleared.

Sirius turned to pierce his husband with a very serious look.

"What?" Harry asked from where he sat, in a chair beside the bed, bottle-feeding James. "What's that look for?"

"I just want to make one thing very clear," the other wizard said gravely. "If we should ever decide to try for that sister Lily wants, I will _not_ be the Bearer again. Going through the morning sickness, weight-gain, swollen ankles, mood swings, strange cravings, and then the bloody excruciating pain of childbirth even _once_ was _more than enough_ for me." He nodded firmly to emphasise his point. "Never again."

"So noted," Harry said solemnly, then looked away and snickered, adding, "you wimp."

He laughed at the offended look his husband sported, ignored the indignant spluttering, and turned his attention back to their new son.

* * *

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